A Dance of Titans
by LucidLucy
Summary: Three weeks after the events of Starkiller base, Kylo Ren brings Rey onto the Finalizer kicking and screaming before departing to complete his training, and Hux finds himself in the role of her interrogator. Let's just say it doesn't end well. But power struggles also have a way of bringing together unlikely individuals. REYLUX. (Rating of T will change to M later)
1. Prologue

NOTES: Hello! this is my first Reylux fic. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Everything comes to an end, eventually. Everything and everyone that lives will also die, the children of stardust that will return to stardust.

Civilizations rise, civilizations fall. Power is exchanged, quid pro quo, and the wheels of time continue grinding forward, undisturbed. The universe, impartial and unmoved, is a silent scribe that records everything that ever was and ever will be across the infinite inevitability that is forever. Some stories are small, faint; pinpricks of light in the vastness of time and space, fading as easily as they came into existence in the blink of an eye: A life well lived in some far away land where the troubles of power and war cannot reach. A happy childhood. A peaceful death. Eventually, they too will be forgotten, and like everything that comes from nothing, will eventually become nothing themselves.

Every once in a while, though, there are those that come along with the power to shred the threads that bind it all together, those who force time and space to shift.

Some stories are only footnotes.

Others are far-reaching sagas, and for those in them, destiny demands greatness. When their stories are told around fireplaces and dinner tables, the legends will be unbelievable, and perhaps some day will become myth. But every myth and every legend is born of truth.

This the story of three individuals drawn to each other with the gravity of two massive giants circling a scorching sun; like titans forever locked in an interstellar dance, slow and steady, to a song nobody else is privy to. On their dance hinges the fate of billions of much smaller stories, those flickering lights, and the universe waits with bated breath as it unfolds.

* * *

Notes:

Thank you for reading! This is going to be a rather long fic, and this is just a prologue! so get yourself a warm mug of something nice and settle in.


	2. The Long Game

"General," comes the voice at his right arm. Hux turns to acknowledge Captain Phasma as she snaps off a crisp, sharp salute.

"At ease, Captain," He nods before turning his attention to the comings and goings of his crew on the bridge.

He's spent the last three weeks scrambling to reinstate a sense of normalcy over the remains of the First Order, awaiting words from Supreme Leader Snoke that never arrive, and Hux's head twinges with the migraine he's carried since Starkiller practically imploded.

"General," Phasma says, her usually pleasant voice sounding metallic to his ears through her modulator, "You are requested immediately in the prison bay by Lord Kylo Ren, sir."

Hux stops mid blink, looking at Phasma's helmet with an unreadable expression. Where exactly did that absolute bastard get off on requesting - _more like demanding_ \- him to be anywhere? Last time Hux checked, he did not answer to _Lord Kylo_ bloody _Ren_.

"Is that so?" He asks in a practiced, placid tone, receiving a small modulated breath for his efforts. Phasma of all people knows that there is no love lost between Hux and Kylo Ren, especially after Hux had to go out of his way to save his useless hide when Ren's tunnel vision concerning that scavenger cost Hux a lifetime's worth of work and planning.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of this request?" Hux asks. Phasma's helmet turns infinitesimally to the left, the only tell of her amusement. He ignores it.

"Sir," even Phasma's modulator can't disguise the amusement in her voice, except Hux can't see what could possibly be so funny about Kylo Ren's massive sense of entitlement. "He has just landed at the hangar and is on his way to bring the Jakku girl to a prisoner cell."

Hux's brows rise fractionally, but his surprise is soon clouded by annoyance. There's absolutely no reason for him to go to the prison cells for this. Still, he yanks his already pristine jacket into place and runs his fingers over his lapels, giving Phasma a curt, irritated nod.

"Very well."

"Sir," Phasma salutes once more before turning on her heel and walking to her post on the bridge, Hux's long strides carrying him away from the bridge and towards the prison cells.

Just as he turns the corner with purposeful steps, the soles of his boots thumping on the hard floors as two stormtroopers flank him all the way, Hux is treated to the most ridiculous thing he's ever seen: that of Kylo Ren stomping towards one of the prisoner cells with a wriggling scavenger tossed over his massive shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

Her arms are tied behind her back and she's been gagged, but Hux can hear the muffled, furious screams even at this distance. Her legs fling wildly and kick Ren repeatedly in the stomach, and though Kylo Ren doesn't seem to notice - or pretends not to - Hux is sure that'll leave a collection of angry bruises for the Knight to find in the morning. A small pinprick of satisfaction runs through him at the thought. Bruises are the least the oaf deserves.

He hangs back just long enough to watch the Knight walk into the cell and drop the prisoner carelessly on the floor before Hux allows himself to enter at a languid pace. The mechanical doors shut with a loud ' _thunk_ ' that reeks of finality to his ears.

The scavenger scrambles up to her feet from where she'd been tossed down like a bag of grain, then crouches like a feral thing. He takes her in with amusement as her eyes turn to slits and she hisses over the cloth gagged in her mouth, sharp little teeth glinting.

 _So the desert rat does have fangs after all._

He holds his ground, though, steeling himself, refusing to let this slip of a girl think she could intimidate him. Hux would find it kind of endearing, really, if not for the fact that she's part of the reason why he's been spending anxious nights sleeping less than usual for three weeks, awaiting for a summons with more and more trepidation as the days pass.

Silence stretches and Hux starts to wonder if he's been brought here so he could play a game of who can blink first. He certainly has no time for this.

"I see you picked up a stray," Hux clips at Ren, words icy while he gives the girl a once over.

The barely-there sound of plastoid armor adjusting over itself reaches his ears as the stormtroopers shift their weight and Hux realizes that the girl makes them nervous, a known force sensitive angry and cornered like an animal inside a sealed vaulted room with them inside. Hux doesn't twitch a muscle. It would not do for his men to think that their leader could become _fidgety_ , though if he were to admit it to himself, he likes the prospects of being around two force users - one angry and on the defensive, the other a total degenerate - just as much as the stormtroopers do.

The silence continues and Hux just barely refrains from rolling his eyes and storming out of the room.

"Well?" he bites instead.

"A word," Kylo Ren finally deigns to speak, turning towards the doors. Hux inches his gaze at the cameras in the ceiling and gives a small, curt nod before looking at Ren.

"She can't move," Kylo says, voice impassive as ever through his helmet, "Frozen."

Hux turns to look at the scavenger. True enough, the only things that seem to be able to move are her slowly blinking eyes, the feral turn to her lips over her bared teeth otherwise frozen. Hux narrows his eyes.

The doors slams shut behind them when they step out, leaving her crouching inside. The stormtroopers immediately dismiss themselves to give their superiors privacy, while remaining just close enough to return to their posts if called.

Hux curls his fingers over a fist behind his back as he acknowledges the Knight in front of him, head held high and shoulders squared; Kylo Ren is only about an inch or two taller than he is and he won't let the man watching him silently use that to intimidate him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your request?" he asks as professionally as he can afford to be.

"I apprehended the scavenger on her way out of Ach'to," Kylo says, "Headed for D'Qar, as per the coordinates in her ship's logs."

Hux narrows his eyes. He would need to issue a reconnaissance meeting soon... This new information could prove very useful in zeroing in on the rebels. Before he can ask further questions, however, Ren continues.

"I have been summoned to Supreme Leader Snoke to finalize my training," Ren says in the most formal voice Hux has ever heard from the giant. It's tinged with pride, Hux thinks, but drops it. It's none of his business.

"And what does your little Force Cult gathering have to do with me, Ren?" Hux asks.

There is no reason as to why he'd have to be down here to be told this. A simple comm could have achieved the exact same thing with a lot less hassle, and a lot less wasted time on Hux's end. He had an armada to run.

"I cannot oversee her interrogation while on board a ship headed to outer space, General," Kylo drawls, moving closer to Hux than necessary.

"Interesting, that," Hux barbs, "I thought you and your little gang of magical children could do just about anything."

Kylo's fingers twitch at being called a kid, the sound of stretching, creaking leather reaching his ear as Ren steps closer, his helmet mere inches from Hux's nose. If he breathed just hard enough, Hux muses, he'd be able to fog it over. Ren says nothing, however, and Hux finally says the words he meant to say, rather than the antagonistic jab he had delivered.

"You can't possibly be suggesting I interrogate her. I have no time for babysitting your pet projects."

"That is exactly what I'm… _asking_ … General. Nicely." Kylo says, his throat choking around that one word like he's never had to ask for anything in his life. Hux very much doubted he ever truly had to.

"You're asking me." Hux deadpans. "Nicely."

"Yes." Kylo growls, then straightens as though he's remembered who he is, a mountain swathed in black, leather and terror. The man reeks of command.

"You'll have to do better than that, Ren," Hux sneers. Why was it up to him to always go in and salvage the situation?

"Would you prefer I tell Snoke you think interrogating a very dangerous prisoner of war is beneath your pay grade?"

Hux's nostrils flare. He tightens the reins on his temper and control and stares at the other man. When Kylo Ren senses no answer coming, he continues. "You're the best interrogator on this base other than myself, General."

Hux's brain sparks up for a millisecond at this. Was that a _compliment_? From _this man?_

"Or do you perhaps think that your skills could be best used doing… _other_ …things?" Kylo asks. The jibe comes with a telltale brush against his awareness and Hux slams every single defensive wall he possesses around his thoughts.

There.

That insufferable bastard.

How dare he?

"Keep your filthy mind games to yourself, Lord Ren, or you'll find yourself regretting it," Hux warns, words dripping with venom as he moves in to meet Kylo's visor until his breath does fog a small round spot on the helmet's nose. His hands have fisted at his side and he's about a tenth of an inch away from snapping.

And just like that, Kylo Ren pulls back and Hux can only imagine the self satisfied smirk behind the mask. The man revels in sneaking under Hux's skin and fueling his fury.

"I'd like to see you try, General," Kylo says, looking for another response. Hux won't even dignify that with an answer. "Until then, perhaps, your skills would be best used here?" Kylo finishes, his helmet tilting towards the vaulted door where the scavenger waits, then turns around and leaves without awaiting for Hux to confirm that he would even deign to agree to his demand.

Typical.

A loud scream and a thump against the wall tells Hux that Kylo has released the Force Freeze and he nearly turns around to leave. Of course he'd keep her that way until the last possible second. _Of course he would_. A small present for the General, another way to get under his skin.

Hux fights the urge to curse under his breath and twitches his fingers at the stormtroopers to follow. She might be bound, but from the sound of the repeated rams against the walls, she's far from harmless.

* * *

Hux has two comfortable chairs brought to the scavenger's cell, placed facing each other by the stormtroopers before they retreat to the back corners of the room, weapons aimed at the girl's back.

He lowers himself to his seat like a man who has all the time in the world and makes himself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other and pulling off his gloves, resting them on his knees. The girl is back on the floor, her chest heaving and her lips panting around the cloth gag shoved into her mouth, staring murder at Hux. He crosses his hands calmly on his lap as he watches her, eyes roving over her singed, dirty clothes and wild hair falling out of what looks like three little buns. She hadn't gone down without a fight.

"Sit, please," Hux offers, extending a hand to the empty chair behind her. She doesn't move. He regards her impassively while the air around them crackles dangerously with tension.

"Here's how this is going to happen," Hux begins, purposely keeping the edge out of his voice like a parent talking to a petulant child, "You can either take a seat, or remain on the floor - it does not matter to me - but here we will talk like civilized people."

When she bares her teeth at him and he's reminded of a rabid dog waiting for a fight, Hux realizes she plans on being anything but civilized. He suppresses the urge to pinch his nose in distaste, studying her face in quiet wonder. Now he begins to understand exactly why he'd found Kylo Ren cut up like a pig to market and bleeding out three weeks ago.

Hux sighs, then he uncrosses his legs and leans forward ever so slowly, careful not to spook her. She inches away from him, hackles rising, and Hux raises his palms up in a silent, peaceful offering to indicate he means no harm. Her eyes dance across his, trying to catch him on a lie, but she makes no move to retreat.

"I am only trying to remove this… whatever this is," he looks at the piece of dirty rags that had been forcefully shoved in her mouth and bound in place with another dirty strip, then grimaces. "Then we can speak."

Give it to the First Knight of Ren to be a total boor. War may not be pretty by necessity, but it doesn't have to be so uncivilized. The scavenger pinches her nose and Hux allows her to see the small upward tug of his lips. On this at least they agree.

She stays in place when Hux moves forward again, and he grabs the slip of fabric over her mouth to tug down. The air sparks when his thumb accidentally meets the pad of her lips, cold fingers rusing over searing hot skin, and he withdraws quickly before she forcefully spits out the wad of cloth.

"There," he murmurs, leaning back into his chair and assuming his previous seating arrangement. The warmth of her lip still burns. "I assume that feels better."

The girl grumbles something under her breath that sounds a bit like agreement, but it's so low Hux wonders if he imagined it. He speaks again after a long moment in which she makes no move to sit up.

"I would take your restraints off entirely, except we all know how that went the last time you were on my base," he says, suppressing a sneer, thinking warily to what he'd heard of her escape and the immediate consequences.

Her eyes snap up to his at the reminder and — like a slow motion holovideo playing out in front of his eyes — her face goes slack and her lids lower as she takes him in.

"You will remove these restraints," she commands, slowly and deliberately intoning every syllable. "You will open these doors and let me go. You will not remember this."

Hux drapes a calm mask over his own expression as he relaxes his features, lips parting slightly - in surprise at her gall, if he's honest with himself - and he bites back the laugh that almost bubbles up his throat.

Clever girl. Unfortunately, not clever enough.

"I will-" he repeats, watching the tiny spark of hope slowly working its way to her face, relishing it for an extra breath before continuing, "I will do no such thing."

Her expression sours quickly enough to cause whiplash. Hux almost chuckles.

"Did you really think that would work on me, girl?" he asks. How dare she try compulsion on him? What was it with every blasted Force user thinking that they could just barge into his thoughts and order him about like a puppet?

"I—" She stutters, a flush creeping up her collarbone; it's not anger, he thinks, but embarrassment that tinges her cheeks pink.

He glances at the stormtroopers. They had gone stiff, shifting in the spot as she'd tried to use compulsion. The men slowly relax back into their positions as the air clears, blasters aimed at her shoulder blades. The scavenger in front of him tenses up.

Hux looks at her closely. He's here to get information out of her, not to rile her up further, so he fills in for her benefit.

"It's fine," Hux offers with a minute smile, holding it until he's sure she's seen it, "you didn't know any better. And how would you? No one's taught you."

 _Ah… there._

He hit the nail on the head as her expression goes through the paces: being taken aback, mortification, anger, fear, then a slow, sad resignation that veils itself across her eyes.

 _She's just as bad as Kylo Ren._

"How did you know?" She whispers, curling in on herself.

Hux considers. He could goad her, call her weak and silly for trying to take over a general's mind without proper training, but it would only push her further into the defensive, and a cornered, unwilling prisoner was of no use to him.

The girl is obviously untrained. He remembers as much from audiences with Snoke. Which meant she must have tried to find the Skywalker. It would explain her capture coming out of what is, for all intents and purposes, an uninhabited planet.

So, she'd been rejected, then.

"Lucky guess," he says, turging the tiny seed of information in his mind. This meant D'Qar could be the location of the rebel base. He'd request audience with the Supreme Leader as soon as he was done here.

The girl slumps. Hux studies her closely.

"You should know that trick only works on the weak of mind," he says and taps his temple, looking for a way to use this to his advantage, absentmindedly beating a slow rhythm with his heel. The constant, steady beat grabs her attention immediately. Her eyes swing down. "You would need much more practice to use compulsion on someone trained to guard their thoughts."

Hux deftly plants a small seed in her mind.

Luke Skywalker cannot train her, but there is another Force user who could. It lasts a few heartbeats, every thought painted clearly on her face, then she shakes her head.

 _Hmm. Tough little weed to sway, aren't you?_

He's not sure why he even tries — this is Kylo's mess and he damn well should be the one doing the legwork, not Hux — yet here he is, dangling the proverbial carrot in front of her, and she shakes it away. Hux only sees a personal challenge.

 _Perhaps a bigger carrot is needed._

Hux leans forward once more and extends a hand.

"I cannot take your restraints off, but perhaps I can make you more comfortable. Won't you take the seat?"

The scavenger looks behind her, frowning. Hux notes the bruises around her ankles from her restraints, and he knows for a fact that the floors are freezing. He personally keeps the prisoner cells colder than most places - a little chill makes faster work of unwilling minds and mouths. She turns her frown on him then sighs, struggling to get up without the aid of her hands.

He's at her side immediately, grabbing her by the elbow to help her up. She flinches at his fingers wrapping around the small crook of her elbow; Hux ignores it, pulling her up gently and leading her until her bottom hits the plush seat. A small, inaudible sigh escapes her and he smiles internally, dropping his hand and retaking his seat. He leans forward, elbows perched on his thighs so that his eyes are lower than hers, forcing him to look up through his eyelashes. It's a small thing, but intimidation would only get him so far, something Kylo Ren had never learned.

Hux berates himself at the reminder. This is the fifth time in a matter of minutes thoughts of Ren have weaseled into Hux's thoughts. He shoves the irksome realization to the back of his brain and focuses on the girl in front of him. She's still on eggshells, tense and ready to run, but she's no longer trying to find a spare moment to lunge herself at him. It's progress, however small.

"I apologize on behalf of the Order for the way in which you were… deposited… here," he starts, only to be cut off.

"Why would you care?" she seethes, "You're just as monstrous as he is. You're all monsters."

Hux arches an eyebrow and stomps on his irritation before replying with languorous words.

"Civilized conversation, girl," he reminds her. He thinks he's made a mistake to do so when her feet stomp down on the cold steel floor, shoulders are thrown back, trying to skin him alive with her glare.

"The name is Rey. _Rey_ ," She emphasizes, "Not _scavenger_. Not _desert rat._ Not _girl_. Rey." She snarls.

It takes him aback. Her rage. She's spit fire and barely contained fury in her wild eyes, even dirty and restrained as she is. He takes in the wispy hairs flying around her face, and for a second the pure display of power robs him of air.

He soaks it in, then uses his height to his advantage, rising. She must crane her neck up and squint if she wants to watch him over the glaring overhead lights.

"Well, Rey…" The name is soft and glides on his lips too easily, "Perhaps we should speak later… once all of our tempers have simmered down."

Another flush creeps up her cheeks even as she glares daggers at him. The only temper that has flared here is hers, and that gives him the upper hand. A well admonished child is easier to guide as the adult wants.

Hux turns to leave, frowning. This is Kylo Ren's job, not his, and yet, here he is.

* * *

The second time he sees with the girl - Rey, he reminds himself, preparing for another round of battle - he finds her curled up on the chair. Well… chairs. She's pushed them together into a makeshift bed.

She jumps like an alarmed cat when the doors hiss open. Hux stops at the door as she sits up, tucking her legs in and painfully avoiding the second chair.

He considers, then takes one step forward.

"May I speak with you?" he asks, and the confusion on her face is priceless. She didn't expect the courtesy.

He steeples his fingers on his other hand behind his back, patiently waiting for her.

"No," she says then looks at the wall. Hux smiles, nods, takes one step back. He's fine playing the long game.

"As you wish," he replies, noting the the look of disbelief on her face as he takes a step back and the door hisses shut.

* * *

She's more cooperative the third time. Hux asks for a decent meal and a blanket to be brought to her beforehand, knowing that she's freezing and starving. He takes in the empty room as the stormtroopers take their places behind her, noticing the marks on the walls, some sort of count, wondering how she managed. She's bundled up in her blanket. Her wrist restraints are removed for meals, and he'd had them removed for his meeting with her. The small show of kindness must have worked, because this time she grants him an audience.

She scoots over to her chair, leaving the other vacant. He approaches her as he would a scared rabbit, on light feet and in slow motion, keeping as close to the wall as possible before approaching and dragging his chair a fair distance away.

Hux sits down and crosses his ankles this time, a less intimidating posture than when he crosses his one leg over another like an emperor at his leisure.

Hux slowly drums his fingers on his thigh, and again, her eyes swing to it. She can't help herself, he muses, watching her focus on the consistent beat.

He'd done his homework. An orphan from a desert planet. He imagines the quiet days and nights with no sound but that of her own breathing.

"Would you like to talk, today?" Hux asks, breaking the silence by giving her the choice.

Her eyes widen a fraction when she looks at him before once more glazing over in irreverent refusal.

"I see," he says into the stretching silence.

 _Well, if she won't talk…_

"I have ordered your restraints to be permanently removed."

The blankets rustle as the girl instinctively rubs at her wrists. They're undoubtedly aching and bruised by now.

"I will have a med droid examine them," Hux offers, nodding towards the movement, "ensure there's no damage."

Perhaps this third kindness finally breaks her. Rey lowers her head and a soft whisper dances all the way to his ears.

 _Thank you._

Hux nods, allowing himself a satisfied smile.

Yes, he'd play the long game indeed.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's Notes:** Hurrah, our first chapter! thank you so much for reading along. I hope you enjoyed it, and hope you let me know what you think :)


	3. Honored Guest

Summary: Rey tries to escape, repeatedly, ultimately forcing Hux's arm while grinding every one of his gears. Nobody's happy about this new development. At all.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

* * *

The days had started bleeding into each other. The first two days Rey had paced the small cell from corner to corner, inspecting every edge, trying to find any and every small crack she could exploit and find a way out of this Light forsaken hellhole. After her first meeting with… she didn't know who he was, actually, she realized in a small moment of confusion. Rey assumed he was important, however, because he seemed to always come and go as he liked, flanked by stormtroopers, and he had called her a stray to Ren's face without ending up on the wrong end of his lightsaber, and that had to count for something. After her first meeting with the redheaded man, Rey decided she would find a way to escape or die trying. Her first order of business was to use the hard edges of her handcuffs to make a mark on the wall, rubbing herself against it to make sure it indents: day one.

By the second night, her pacing has slowed from frantic to a methodical count of the steps it takes her to get around the perimeter. The count keeps her sane, keeps her thoughts occupied on something other than the horrible wave of crushing defeat that keeps roaring up inside of her, licking at her mind. She had denied the redhead an audience, and nearly fallen out of her seat when he calmly took a step back and accepted her refusal as if she were only turning down a meal (which she would never do). After his retreat, Rey had settled herself to plotting her escape.

On the third night her nerves are on edge. She's sleep deprived and cold. Freezing, in fact; the outfit given to her by the Resistance perfect for travel but very ill-suited to being kept in the equivalent of a freezer for days on end. She examines the walls, knowing she will find no cracks, no weak edges of metal in the walls, and sighs, flopping on one of the two chairs that were left in the room. She considers her options: she could break a leg off and use it to club the troopers over the head when her meal is delivered. If it's delivered. Her stomach grumbles in response, and Rey grumbles at the thought that her last meal had come over 24 hours ago. As soon as she rests back on the chair she's uncomfortably reminded of the durasteel restraints around her wrists and she growls. Even if she managed to make a weapon out of a chair, she couldn't use it while her hands were tied behind her back. A reminder of how weak she is; what good does the Force do to her if she can't control it enough to get _these blasted things off?!_ They had come off for meals, quickly removed by a small and efficient droid. They had taken precautions to keep her from bending another stormtrooper's mind, she notes with satisfaction. _Good_. Let them believe she's strong. At least strong enough for that.

But clubbing a droid over the head would not do. She was fond of droids. It was not their fault that humans used their programming for wrong-doing, and bringing her a meal did not deserve a whack and potential malfunctioning in return.

Her stomach growls once more at the thought of food, and as if on cue, she feels more than sees the doors hissing open to admit a small droid bearing a tray of food on top of a bundle of something. Stormtroopers stand armed to the teeth across the hall, staring warily at her as the droid enters the chamber, far enough away that she could not speak to them and use compulsion, yet close enough to be able to stop her if she tries to run.

The droid comes around her as the closing door blocks her view of the soldiers, quickly undoing the locking mechanism of her restraints with a push of a round key-like piece of metal into the matching hole in her handcuffs. There's the whir of the lock giving way, a sharp, metallic click, and then the handcuffs are falling off her wrists and into a mechanical claw before they hit the ground. She immediately rubs at her now freed wrists, bringing them close to her eyes to examine. They look as though she's wearing bracelets, ugly ones. Sickly yellowy-red rings of old bruises, topped off with newer ones, purple and blue and angry, circle her bony wrists like wounds. Rage sparks inside her chest.

"Prisoner 3259," comes the tinny mechanical voice of the droid, sputtering out technical data about her food. "Your meal is currently at perfect temperature for human consumption. This room's temperature is fifty-six degrees. It will take approximately fifteen minutes for the contents of your plate to become cold. Please eat now."

Rey does not pay attention. Her mind zeroes in and her anger spikes at being called a prisoner and given a number, stripped of her name, of anything that marks her as an individual. She wonders if this is how Finn felt at being called FN-2187. Her heart constricts with pain at the thought of Finn. Where is he now? Had he recovered fully? Had he _died_? She doesn't know. He had been under heavy sedation and considered stable when she had last seen him, but injuries such as his could still take a turn for the worst at the last minute. She prays to a deity she doesn't know, anydeity that would listen, that her friend would survive. Her mind starts wandering to the rest of her friends when her thoughts are interrupted once more.

"Prisoner 3259," the droid calls out once more, its little wheels bringing it to face Rey. It has the bundle she had noticed in its claws, pushing them towards her, "A request has been made for this delivery."

She grabs it tentatively, and then a part of her wants to break down and cry because she sees it's a large, plush, soft fleece blanket. She's freezing.

"I—…" She starts, only for the droid to interrupt her once more to repeat its spiel about the food's temperature. Rey shakes her head.

"Thank you," she whispers to the droid, truly meaning it, and she can swear that it lets out a self satisfied whir of its internal gears. She wonders if she can persuade this little droid.

"My name is Rey," she offers tentatively.

The droid says nothing, does nothing, gears turning at a low buzz, and for a few seconds she thinks she must have imagined the previous sound and how silly of her; this is a First Order droid, they would be devoid of personality. But then the droid speaks.

"Prisoner Rey 3259," it chimes, and once more gives her the food temperature run-down, this time with far less minutes until it runs cold. Rey grins. She does not care about the food in this moment. The droid responded. Intelligently, though still within the restrictions of its programming. But still, it had responded with her name.

So she turns around and sets the blanket aside, picking up her tray and beginning to eat. The droid seems satisfied enough because it turns on its wheels and accesses the entrance. The door shuts behind it, leaving her once again with her thoughts, and she sets to devouring the gruel on her plate. Her stomach aches, half protestation, half delight at finally having something to digest, and for a second Rey feels the echoed pangs of something so similar to her hungry life on Jakku that her heart sinks. She had exchanged one hell for another.

Once she's done, she sets the tray to the side of the room - the droid would come back to claim it - A small thought passing through her that the droid hadn't waited as it always did, and it hadn't replaced her restraints. She curls herself up on the makeshift cot she had made for herself out of the two chairs that remained in the room. The blanket she had wrapped herself in is the most deliciously comfortable thing she remembers feeling, in fact, the most comfortable blanket ever. Her only comparisons were the rags she used during sand storms in Jakku, and the stiff blankets on the millennium falcon, and this one just felt like heaven. Soft, plush, and blessedly warm. She wonders if it had just recently been laundered, because the warmth couldn't possibly be natural. The sensation soon starts lulling her to a daze as she curls into the backs of the chairs, careful not to jostle them apart.

Then the door is opening up again to admit the redheaded man and she debates with herself on the merits of just staying lying down and denying him a seat, but then she feels the soft, warm blanket around her shoulders and sits up gingerly. She could grant him an audience. Doesn't mean she'd actually say anything useful, if at all. The man must be awfully good at non-verbal communication, Rey muses, because he somehow picks up on her decision without her saying absolutely anything. He slowly walks around the perimeter of the room, steps short and deliberate - perhaps even lazy, considering that his legs could cover ground in two short strides instead - until he's across from her in the corner. He turns and approaches her with even quieter steps. She refuses to make herself small for him, however, and does not move when he makes a grab for his chair and moves it in front of her, a good distance away.

Then he's sitting himself and his eyes roam the room, lingering a moment too long on the cuff marks she's been leaving on the walls, but if her vandalizing his ship bothers him at all, he doesn't show it. Instead he turns to look at her, crossing his legs at his ankles.

After a few heartbeats, he speaks, and Rey has a hard time looking away from his lips in that moment.

"Would you like to talk, today?" he asks softly. Rey's brain immediately speeds up a million miles an hour.

 _Why_ is this man giving her an option at all? She's a prisoner. Then she steels herself. Of course he's not giving her an option. He'll force it out of her when she refuses to oblige and his temper runs short, if he's anything like Kylo Ren. She wonders once more who this man is within this organization. A professional interrogator? It would make sense.

"I see… I have ordered your restraints to be permanently removed." He says, breaking the silence.

He must be joking, surely. She expected torture and screaming and lashes, perhaps, and does not doubt that it's coming, but her hands immediately reach to comfort her bruised and painful wrists, and still she maintains her silence.

Maybe if she stays quiet, he'll give up like yesterday and walk away. It's not like she has much to give him anyway - now that she truly thinks back on it, she spent less than twenty four hours with the Resistance, for all that's worth. For the hundredth time in the last three days she wishes she had access to Luke's Lightsaber. Her gears start turning with ways to get out of this blasted prison as she slowly, carefully rubs at her wrists.

Hux's eyes shift to her lap once, twice, three times, then back at her eyes.

"I will have a med droid examine them, make sure they're alright," he offers with a nod to the movement under the blankets.

Rey stops all movements, tenses, and looks at him for a second too long. What's he playing at? But the warmth of the blanket reminds her again that she's at his mercy, and the small acts of kindness he has shown can be taken away just as easily as they were bestowed. The last thing she wants is to spend days on end freezing her limbs off in this place. Rey is nothing if not a survivor. So she does the only thing she can, partly because she must, but partly because she means it.

She lowers her head and breaths out two small words.

"Thank you."

The tiny smile that plays on his lips tells her it works. She allows herself to relax a fraction and leans her head back on the headrest of her chair, giving a tiny sigh, but her eyes never leave his. She'd be stupid to close her eyes and truly drop her defenses. Her intent is to leave this place. So she'll play the long game she must play until she finds out how, and then she'll forget all this and leave it all behind.

Rey's thinking about what comes next — return to the resistance? Go back to Jakku? Perhaps she could just disappear into the outer rim like Finn had tried to, start over somewhere else with no Force and no War and no whoever this man was sitting in front of her — when he speaks once more.

"Rey…" he chimes, turning the word over as if examining whether it feels right, and her eyelids twitch at the sound of her name on his tongue. "I have a proposal for you."

Her head snaps up and she frowns. A what now?

The man in front of her leans forward again, looking up at her with palms extended, elbows resting on his knees.

"The truth is, I have no use for prisoners, especially those who won't talk."

 _There_. She knew this was coming. Slowly, she steels herself up for potential pain. She's never been tortured before, but she's been in plenty of brutal fights to know what hard thrown punches feel like, and she'd been beaten to near death once or twice over salvaged scrap. She could endure. He simply continues as if he didn't just imply that he'd take what he needs by force.

"I also have no use for force users. That is Kylo Ren's thing, not mine." He offers her a small conspiratorial smile, but the tone of voice in which he says it tells Rey there's no love lost between the two. "So my options dwindle as the days go by…"

He lets the words sink in, the silence stretching. She'd be able to hear a pin drop.

Immediately Rey starts running through her options as well. How can she get out of here? Her eyes twitch towards the cameras she knows are hidden in the ceiling along the corners; she'd found them on the second day, and then her gaze swings back to the man in front of her.

"So perhaps we can come to a mutual agreement, yes?" he's dangling the offer like a carrot on a string.

"What offer?" she asks, not moderating her tone. She wouldn't give him the pleasure.

"Well… Simple, really. I can't let you go," he says, crushing her dreams of easy freedom immediately, "but I _could_ make your life a whole lot more comfortable here. This room, for one." He swings his hand lazily about, making her turn her head and take in the bare, steely walls, the cold floors, the bright lights.

"In exchange for what, exactly?" She asks.

"Luke Skywalker."

Rey laughs, a rough, rusty thing. She can't remember the last time she laughed at anything.

"You want me to—…" she giggles, out of how unbelievable this whole situation was and how easy he had come out with it. "I fought in a c _ollapsing planet_ in order to keep that secret, and you want me to hand it out to you for..what? A blanket?"

The man in front of her becomes feral for a second, but he quickly schools his expression, and Rey wonders exactly what his connection to that incident was. She shivers at the look that crossed his face, as though she were a mouse and he a very angry cat, but refuses to let him think she's intimidated by him. He doesn't move.

"Why were you in Ach'to?" he asks, and Rey's laughter dies immediately. His eyes flick back and forth between hers, as though trying to read what was there. Rey clams her mouth shut and glares.

"He's there, isn't he?" he asks.

"The Resistance probably knows by now that I've been captured." This is a lie, but she can only hope that someone would have guessed something happened in lieu of her absence with the Millennium Falcon.

The man in front of her shrugs.

"Perhaps," is all he gives in a nonchalant tone.

"They will come for me," she says. At this, he smiles, a wide, toothy smile that holds something dangerous at its edges.

"They can try," he taps his left fingers against the back of his right hand and her eyes fly to it. Then she forces her gaze up. She won't get distracted. This is too important for her to let sound get to her. Then the man says something that nearly splits her apart.

"But I am guessing they will not." He states matter of factly, "You're a nobody from a backwater wasteland of a planet who was turned down by the Resistance's god on earth, and you have nothing to offer them now that would benefit their best interests and Skywalker's rejected you; except somewhat decent flying skills, and they can't be that great if Kylo Ren locked onto your ship and hauled you back here kicking and screaming. They certainly have no one else to train you; not to use your magical powers, not to be a better pilot. You've only known them for..what? A handful of weeks at most? Do you really, truly know them? Why would you swear your undying loyalty to a group of people like that?"

Rey sits still as a stone, because her only other option would be to lunge for his throat and rip out his jugular with her teeth, and she doubts the two stormtroopers at her back would respond kindly.

She takes in every well aimed jab, every single rip at her ego and the few things she held with pride - her ability to fly, her ability to survive, her new sense of belonging, her new friends' faith in her, her faith in them - and mentally rages at the bastard sitting across from her. How dare he? She throws all caution to the wind, though, because her anger's gotten to her.

"You're no different, you monster," she spits, "or have you already forgotten that your precious Order just wiped out billions of people for…what? Your best _interests_? Why would I help a group of people like that?" she twists his words and throws them back at him.

He tilts his head, considering. The look of anger is gone from his eyes, replaced by something colder, stonier, and Rey suddenly starts fearing for her life.

"Because, as of right now, you're my guest. And the least you could do is behave and cooperate, no?"

"No."

He smiles then, and Rey can't tell if he's irritated or actually amused, though she's nearly sure it's the former.

"I hope you enjoy your accommodations, then," he finally speaks after what feels like a lifetime. The man in front of her gets up to his feet and moves to retreat.

She doesn't know why she does it. Why she speaks up, but it comes tumbling out either way.

"Wouldn't a guest know her host's name, at least? Or have I been demoted to prisoner of war once more?"

He stops, and Rey takes a split second to run her eyes over the broad expanse of his shoulders, thrown back and covered with fine, sturdy, impeccably pressed black fabric, gloved hands rigid at his side, ever the stance of someone used to giving orders. A commander, then. Then he's turning, and Rey's eyes widen slightly.

His face is entirely unreadable. She wonders how it could be that someone could guard their emotions so easily, and hopes that hers don't show at every turn. The only noise bouncing along the walls is the sound of his hard boots on the floors. He watches her from under long, thick red lashes, and Rey's starting to think she pushed a bit too far.

"Hux. General Hux, to you. Welcome aboard my ship."

A kriffing _General_? The man runs this ship? She nearly chokes. How was she not dead yet? The only other general she knows is General Leia Organa, the woman running the whole of the Resistance. A station of power, then. A very, very high station.

His back is to her in a brisk turn and he's walking out, and Rey's resolve to escape is stronger now more than ever as the door slams behind his retreating, powerful stride.

* * *

The first time she manages to escape out of her cell, she's so close to truly being free that once she lands back in a cell, she cries, uncaring of the cameras. After the general left, Rey set about to work. She removed her over tunic, ripping it to pieces between her teeth and with short fingernails. Her teeth positively _hurt_ by the end of it. She had noticed that the cameras' red dot of light would flicker for a second every handful of hours. The lights in her room were blessedly darkened at night - another small mercy, perhaps? - And she was sure the cameras were equipped for night vision, but in the dark they couldn't reach every corner of the room. So she ripped her tunic into squares when the lights were on, and waited until they went dark.

Once dark, she took the chairs to the corners and dropped the small squares over the cameras' eyes. She waited with bated breath for the alarms to go off, but when nothing came, she quietly moved her chairs back to the center of the room and went to sleep.

When guards checked on her the next day, and the day after that, they would always find her asleep. The squares would come down, and she'd only cut more up from her tunic and repeat it the next day. Eventually, whoever was in command of the cameras assumed she simply wanted privacy, because they stopped taking her ragged scraps of fabric. Once she's gained their trust, she gets to work. The next two nights she covers the cameras, then stacks her chairs in the center of the room and gingerly climbs them, careful not to make noise by falling. She pries at the overhead light and her fingers start bleeding, but she doesn't care. Small cuts she can deal with. Whenever General Hux comes in to jostle information out of her, she carefully keeps her fingers hidden. By the third night, the cap on the overhead light pops off along with the lightbulb, and Rey allows herself a grin.

She shoves her hand through the hall, careful to avoid wires or yank anything out of place, and feels around tentatively. Then she feels it. Small little bolts. Rey's night vision isn't the best, but the tiny amount of light coming through the bottom crack of the door is enough. Of course, the ceiling's panels are bolted from the inside! But they didn't consider the one weakness…the light socket.

So she works at the bolts, slowly, carefully, one hand suspended under the panel to ensure it doesn't clatter to the ground. Rey manages to strip the two bolts closest to her, and suddenly she sighs when the panel swings upward. It won't fall after all. She climbs down, repositions her chairs immediately under it, climbs back up carefully and pushes it until it rests on the inside with a soft thud. This is it!

She climbs up into the wires, praying to the Maker that there are no exposed wires, and breathes a sigh of relief when she finds a clear ventilation shaft. Rey climbs on her elbows and knees, hissing every once in a while at scraped skin, but keeps going. Her heart is thrumming in her ears and she's feeling a little sick, but she follows the ventilation shaft along the ship like a rat inside the wall - the thought makes her want to giggle, really - until she overhears stormtroopers.

From there on, the climb is slower, stopping any time she hears sounds. She knows she's following blind, but at least she's not stuck in a holding cell. Eventually she comes across a hall with zero sounds. So, rarely patrolled. She waits a good twenty minutes to make sure, and when no sounds come, Rey works her aching fingers over panel bolts and drops into the hallway. She has no weapon, but at least she knows she can use compulsion on a trooper, and she's careful to boot.

She finds an information station and taps at it hurriedly until she finds her location in relation to the hangar. Fifteen minutes later, she's there, crouching behind a bolted and tied TIE fighter. Her eyes rove over the area. So many ships. So many. She didn't know there could be this many.

Her heart hasn't stopped beating and she's out of breath from the slamming heartbeat at her throat. Her nerves are on edge, and this might be her only chance to escape, but she needs her ship in order to do so. Her eyes run up and down the hangar and panic starts to build.

There are TIE fighters everywhere she looks, and a few command shuttles she assumes belongs to the commanding officers, but no white ship amongst the blackness. She'd grabbed a wrench the length of her forearm to use as a weapon. She had found it inside a supply closet, the only metal, heavy thing she could find, and is now wielding it with an iron grip of her own. The ship must be somewhere.

As she makes her way to return to where she came from, she curses this blasted gigantic destroyer. There must be a second hangar somewhere. She'd find an information station and locate the next.

Except it only lasts long enough for her to enter a hallway when a stormtrooper appears. It wasn't supposed to be there. She had counted the turnaround for patrols. She curses under her breath.

"HALT!" the stormtrooper screams at her.

Rey bolts. But she's stuck between the Hangar and a hallway, and she skids to a stop at the realization. Her only way out is through that hallway. She turns around to go back and incapacitate the Stormtrooper when yet another one comes from a different hall, having heard its comrade.

 _Kriffing Hell_.

"HALT!" the command comes louder this time, and soon enough the second stormtrooper is activating the overhead alarm. Loud, screeching noises go _Woo-Woo-Woo!_ Overhead until Rey is sure she's about to get a splitting headache. The stormtroopers slowly advance, aiming their blasters straight at her, and she sets into a crouching stance. Another set of Stormtroopers appear at a run, and Rey's cursing just about every damned being on this ship when they pounce.

She twirls out of the way, one stormtrooper accidentally knocking another one with its blaster. They're in too close quarters to shoot, and so she quickly gains the upper hand, swinging her iron wrench like a club at helmets and chests and kneecaps. She's so close. So close.

Her wrench meets a stormtrooper helmet and he falls with a sickening crack, the visor visibly broken, the stormtrooper screaming murder. She doesn't spend a second wondering if she blinded it - them, she reminds herself. It's a person in there - before she twists to avoid a hit to her abdomen.

And then, a familiar voice floats to her.

"What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

She falters, a reflexive reaction at the General's voice, and that's all it takes for her to lose her advantage.

Something hard rams into her back between her shoulder blades. A blaster, she thinks, stumbling forward a step.

"Apprehend her."

General Hux is standing there still in uniform, impeccable as ever, and a ridiculous part of her brain wonders if he ever changes or if somebody just irons his clothes while he's wearing them.

Her hands are thrown roughly behind her, pinned on her lower back, and she hears more than feels the resounding thunk of metal clicking shut on her freedom. Rey throws her head down and shuts her eyes tight.

She was _so close_.

* * *

General Hux takes away everything. The chairs. The blanket. _Her clothes._

She's put into military issued underwear. If she were to rip anything off, she'd be left entirely naked. She curls up atop the cold slab of metal built into the wall. The mattress had also been taken away. Her meals are delivered not by the kind droid that had learned her name, but by a battle droid armed to the teeth.

Rey weeps that night, something she didn't think she would ever do. Not here. Not ever.

She's proved wrong.

He walks in after hours of her shivering in the cold, striding in like a giant meeting with an ant. This time nobody comes in with him. She wonders at this, but says nothing, refusing to meet his eyes.

"This could have gone so much easier, you know that, right?" he finally says after what seems like an eternity. This time there is no gentle demeanor, no calm words. He simply stands looming over her and passing judgement. Rey wants to scream.

"Look at me, girl." He demands.

Rey, against her better instincts, looks up.

"Did you really think we'd leave your garbage shuttle of a ship lying around for you to get to so easily? It's under maximum security somewhere you'll never find it." He sneers.

"Didn't you say I am of no use to you? Why not just let me go?" she asks, knowing how stupid it is, but asking it either way.

"And what? You'll just walk away and not cause any issues?" he clips, obviously thinking her crazy.

"Yes." She deadpans.

"Sorry, girl, but your promises are worth very little right now."

"Stop calling me that." She grits out.

"What? I'm sorry, speak up. I didn't hear you," he mocks, obviously having heard her just fine.

"Stop calling me 'girl'!" she screams, finally turning to look at him. The look of contempt he gives her sends an ugly shiver down her spine.

"I will call you what you are, brat. A petulant, spoiled, irritating _girl_." He bites back, not twitching a muscle. "And until you prove to me that you can be an adult, that's all you'll ever be."

He strides out, leaving her to stew despite the freezing temperatures. Rey sits up and curls in on herself in the corner, trying to conserve as much body heat as humanly possible.

* * *

The second time she nearly escapes she wonders if the universe is just set out to get her. A stormtrooper makes the mistake of coming too close to her door, and she forces the unsuspecting human to open it.

With a quickness she didn't know she possessed, she'd yanked the stormtrooper's blaster out of his hand and cracked it over its helmet. It fell. _Did they not put any sort of padding in those things?_

But she has no time to wonder about it. She hauls the stormtrooper into the room, jamming the blaster into the door to keep it from shutting entirely, and quickly strips the prone body until she's worked off his pants and shirt, leaving the helmet on; she doesn't want to know who she attacked anyway. The clothes are too big for her. Way too big. But they're clothes and blessedly warm, and she won't complain. She forgoes the stormtrooper's armor - it would swim around her and restrict her movements anyway - and wiggles her way out of her cell. The second she removes the blaster, the door slides closed all the way.

Rey rolls up the sleeves dancing around her fingers, keeping her hands free to operate the blaster.

The cells are stacked against each other, she notes, one after another in one long corridor, and she hears the muffled sounds of other people behind cell doors. Her heart squeezes. She wishes nothing more than to open those doors, but her fingerprints would immediately set off the alarms and she has to worry about herself first. She bows to some day free every one of these beings, but for now, she has to run.

Except, of course, why would anything go her way?

 _Just_ as she's about to exit the corridor and into the open clearing, a tall, broad chested redhead dressed in perfectly wrinkle-free clothing and without a hair out of place turns the corner flanked by four stormtroopers.

Everything stops.

He stops. She stops.

Her breath stops.

Her heart stops.

Time stops.

And then she's trying to run down the hall only to end up at a dead end, now crowded in by rushing stormtroopers.

Rey swears she hears a muttered curse from behind the living wall of white plastoid and helmeted heads.

" _She's fucking unbelievable._ "

* * *

"Enough!"

The screamed command bounces against Rey's thoughts and she flinches. She's surely going to die now.

"Handcuff her."

General Hux looks like he's about to spit out fire. A stormtrooper shoves her against the wall and Rey grunts. There's a gun shoved to the back of her hair and a second pair of hands are doing quick work of ramming handcuffs around her wrists again. She winces, wondering if she's going to end up with permanent nerve damage from this.

She's forcefully turned around and she nearly snarls, except her eyes register a moment too slowly that all the plastoid-ridden bodies have moved aside and the only thing in her direct field of vision, _uncomfortably close to her nose_ , is the face of a very angry redhead as he stoops over her much smaller body. His gloved fingers find the crook of her arm and he squeezes, eliciting a small unbidden yelp to escape her lips.

" _What. Do. You. Think. You're doing?_ " he hisses out into her face, his breath warm against her cheek, every word seemingly more heated than the last.

"Going for a stroll," she deadpans with a shrug. Like hell would she let this guy think he can do this to her.

His eyes turn to slits and they fly back and forth between her own, too close to be able to take them in at the same time. His face is pale and tense, his lips turned down in obvious displeasure.

"Does this look like a game to you? Because I can assure you, it certainly is not a game." he hisses, and Rey notices just how pale and crystalline his blue eyes are. At this moment, they could just as easily be made of ice, if the way he was looking at her was any indication.

"No. It looks like you're keeping me here against my will, _General_."

He stays silent for a very long time, eyes never leaving hers. Rey holds her breath.

Then he leans back, his fingers tightly wrapped around her elbow still.

"You're all dismissed."

Rey blinks.

Every single stormtrooper snaps off a salute and turns, leaving in a neat, orderly single file. When there's no one left but them and the sound of marching footsteps is all but gone, General Hux turns to her and lets out a low, angry breath. He yanks at her elbow and tugs her along behind him.

Rey tries to dig in her heels but there's nothing for them to catch in, the stupidly shiny metal floors forcing her to glide behind as she's forcefully moved. Fine then. He can drag her the whole way to wherever they're going. She refuses to take a step, so for the next fifteen minutes or so, Rey hears the sound of stomped steps from Hux's boots, and the hissy shhhhhh of her own - the _stormtrooper's_ boots - dragging on the ground.

Then they're stopping and Rey frowns. This does not look like another hall of cells. Not like her old cell, or her last one. This is a long dark hall, smaller than any other on the ship, with doors built into only one wall.

General Hux tugs his glove off from his right hand with his teeth, shoves it into his pocket, and places his hand on the wall. A red line of light quickly sneaks a silhouette around his long fingers, then beeps green, and the doors in front of them hiss open.

He drags her through then shoves her inside, quickly stepping in behind her to keep her from bolting. The door shuts behind him and Rey almost doesn't notice, because her eyes are trained on the spacious room.

Her first thought is that it's _huge_. The second one that quickly follows is that this is not a prisoner cell.

In fact, it looks anything but. If she were to see this anywhere else, she'd assume _high class hotel room first_ , to be honest. The room is split into a large space comprising of a small kitchenette, all brushed steel and black marble, a seating area with a long, sleek grey leather couch, two seating chairs to either side the couch, and a crystal coffee table in the middle. Her eyes take note of the small detail of white lilies sitting in a crystal vase on the coffee table and she muses at the thought of a man like General Hux keeping flowers alive. Several long steps behind it there's a long table with a single chair, set against the backdrop of open space. A desk? A dining table? To one side there's a door slightly ajar and she notices a bed pristinely made, sheets of gunmetal grey and white, black night stands, white lamps. There's a second door to the left. An office? A 'fresher?

She has little time to wonder about it as her hands are yanked back and she feels something shoved into her cuffs. Then they're falling off of her and Rey turns to watch him hold them between index finger and thumb like a live snake.

"You will not do this again." He states, brooking no argument.

Then he grabs her elbow once more and Rey's about to clock him because, really, must he be so unnecessarily rough? That _hurts_. Except she knows by his grip that the man is strong, and a fight here with nowhere to run would not end well for her.

He drags her to the seating area and shoves her into one of the high backed chairs, taking the one opposite her with a single ' _sit_ ' as if he hadn't already forced her to.

"Why am I here?" she asks.

General Hux just watches her for a long moment, quiet as a tomb.

"Well?" she presses.

"Since you seem so eager and skilled at getting out of every single holding cell on this blasted ship, I am left with no options and am _forced_ to keep you here," he says, spreading his arm around to show the space. "Believe me, I am not pleased."

Rey snorts, wringing her wrists.

"If I had known all it takes are two failed attempts at escape to be upgraded from the pits of hell to a plush suite, I would have done it sooner."

Hux looks like he's about to pop off a button from his perfectly pressed coat in anger.

He stands and towers over her, and Rey is _really_ starting to get tired of him doing that.

"These are my quarters," he stands, "And I hate intruders. Your two choices are to stay here or go out that way," he says, pointing to the wide expanse of crystal clear window opening up like a maw to space.

"At which point, I will not complain," he continues. "But since I can't seem to keep you anywhere else, you'll be in the one place you can't get out. Here."

Rey tilts her head and nearly smirks. She's riled him up and for once it's his turn to huff, his turn to have his neck turn red, his turn to bark out his words in an uncontrolled rush.

"And what makes you think I can't get out of here, too?" she barbs.

At this, Hux snorts.

"You're inside a commanding officer's quarters. The only way out of here is with my hand," he says, lifting his right hand, "and I don't plan on letting you anywhere near it."

His brows raise as Rey stares a little too long at the long, dexterous fingers gracing his right hand.

"There is no way in or out of this place without my biometrics, girl. This room is as good as a fort." He emphasizes, perhaps realizing that she was already looking for ways out of here.

"If you try to escape, I will know. If you break anything, I will know. If you do _anything_ , I will know." He adds, "You are truly _my guest_ here, and I expect you to behave as such."

Rey looks at him.

She half suspected she'd have no way out, but the way he speaks now forces her to pay attention. All traces of anything even remotely close to composure have escaped the man, and she knows this is it. It's either play along or find her body stuffed in a body bag when she least expects it.

So Rey nods, very, very deliberately slow, until she's sure he notices.

His eyes lose a degree of the hardness they held, and he steps back.

"Good," he says, "Refresher is to the left inside the bedroom. I will have proper clothes brought in for you."

His eyes travel up and down her body in the clothes that are three times too big for her and he sneers.

"Dinner will be served at seven sharp."

And with that, he turns around, clears for exit, and stalks out the room.

Rey sags into her chair and lets out a shuddery breath.

What the hell has she gotten herself into?

* * *

Notes:

Chapter Playlist:

"Free" - by Broods

I hope you enjoy! For more updates and random posts, please follow my new tumblr blog ( username thelucidlucy ). Thoughts and comments deeply appreciated and encouraged! I want to know what you guys think.

Also, since this was cross-posted to AO3 and the story there is far ahead from this one, I will be uploading a chapter daily from now on until we catch up to the remaining chapters over at AO3. Then the chapters will start falling in their regular updating schedule of once a week (usually sunday or monday).


	4. Power Struggle

Summary: Hux worries about his cat, Rey worries about poison, and dinner turns rather ugly.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

* * *

Hux needed to calm himself.

With a sigh, he leans back in his office chair and tugs out a cigarette, clipping it between his lips as he blindly fumbles for the lighter he kept in the pocket of the greatcoat hanging behind him. This isn't a habit he indulges often, and certainly never in public, but right now is a perfect time to make an exception. The base is all but silent, everyone but patrol would be in the mess hall having lunch by this time; he has finished his morning reports and nobody is due to report to him in person for the next few hours. He'll indulge.

Finally his fingers wrap around the metal tube and he sighs, bringing it to his face, relishing in the short hiss and sputter as it comes to life. He cups a hand over the small flame and tips his head forward until it meets his cigarette, its end resting calmly against his teeth; his lids hood over his eyes as he takes in the first, long drag and his lungs fill with the burn of the hazy cloud of smoke and nicotine. He holds it in, letting his head fall back against his chair, and after a heartbeat or two, he allows the smoke to filter out through his lips along with a small amount of his stress.

Hux's mind slowly turns over the events of the last hour.

She had escaped. Again.

The fact that she had managed to escape _once_ was unbelievable; had come so close to actually managing to get herself inside a ship that Hux had not only been startled but a little impressed, honestly, because he knew for a fact that his prison cells were top of the line, strong little perfect cages. Nothing got out. Or at least, not until Rey had managed to. He had believed his prisons to be unbreakable, but as he had inspected the cell from where she had escaped and found the chairs stacked one on top of another, the light socket dangling from its wires and a panel wide open in the ceiling, he was proved wrong.

In a way, she had done him a service. She had found a flaw in the design without use of the Force, and he had to give it to her, she was a clever little thing. He knew the chairs had been his fault, for allowing her the kindness of sleep on something other than cold metal floors, but the rest of that escape plan had been all hers, and she'd bested his design. He'd have to remedy that.

Hux had been irritated. Furious, even, when the alarms went off. He went to find out what had caused the chaos himself because a part of his brain knew it had to be her. His intuition had been rewarded with the sight of Rey knocking his stormtroopers around as though they were untrained children rather than the soldiers he had raised to excellence.

But when the second near-successful attempt at escape caught him by surprise; him on his way to _see her_ , of all things. Hux's brain had short-circuited for a second with the absolute inconceivability of the situation. She had stopped in her tracks, alarmed, watching him with disbelieving eyes that surely must have matched his own, before sprinting away to escape. She met a dead end and Hux had thanked the Maker for small mercies. But then his rage kicked in.

His power had been undermined by a slip of a girl barely a woman out of her childhood years, slithering out of every possibly container he put her in and running around like a wild thing; worse yet, his power had been undermined _publicly. Twice_. She had goaded him and he had allowed himself to be goaded. Each time there had been witnesses to her attempts at escape. Soon the whispers would be running around his ship, and that was something he could not tolerate.

He makes a mental note to comm Phasma to devise a way to go forward on the matter before it could no longer be contained.

Hux brings his smoke to his lips once more and pulls, letting the intoxicating nicotine dampen the anger bubbling up in his chest long enough to allow him to think.

He needs to regain his composure before he faces her again. Not for the first time in the last week had she managed to drag him out of the neat little compartments Hux had made for himself and the control he had so carefully crafted over his emotions, and he had a half mind to ask her if she and her male Force sensitive counterpart had gotten together and taken _lessons_ on how to get under his skin.

Hux didn't _smile_ , he thinks with a sneer. He didn't hiss. He didn't _curse_ , at least not in public, and he certainly did not drag women around in the undignified way he had been forced to an hour ago. In less than a week the scavenger girl had managed to find every single crack in his cool, calm and collected commander's demeanor and busted it open at the seams.

But she had nearly escaped a second time - _had_ escaped, in truth, if no farther than the hallways of the ship - and he had been forced to adopt the drastic measures this drastic moment had required of him. So he had dragged her all the way to the top levels of the ship, cursing himself with every step as he listened to the scraping of her boots - of course she wouldn't take a step, _of course not_ \- until he had found himself doing the one thing he wouldn't willingly do any other day of his life: shove someone into his quarters and then _leave_.

And again not for the first time in the space of six days did he wonder when Kylo Ren would return to the Finalizer so that Hux could finally stop having to play the role of _babysitter_ , he thinks with a sneer to himself. His mind wonders about how much damage she's probably already inflicted on his private quarters and his belongings. He breathes in deep and puts his cigarette out in the built in ashtray of his trashcan before turning back, hesitating for a moment.

Despite his better judgement, he turns to the side of his desk and quickly pushes a button, igniting a holopad. A couple of clicks later and he's accessed the main security controls, punching in the access code only he is allowed to have: the one that turns on the security cameras in the commander's quarters. A little light turns green and then a similar screen is flickering to life in front of him. Four cameras go on at the same moment: one in the kitchen, one in the living room, one in his bedroom and another in the refresher, all reflected on his screen in pale shades of blue. His eyes travel across all of them until they bear in on the living room.

He sees a small figure, blue in the light of the holopad. She's curled in on herself exactly where he left her, the only signs of life betrayed by the rise and fall of her shoulders. Her legs are pulled up to her chest and her cheek rests on her knees, her slender arms wrapped tightly around them.

Hux narrows his eyes a fraction. The room looks untouched. She hadn't moved at all.

He can't tell very well, but he thinks her eyes are closed. Asleep, he thinks. Deeply so. His suspicions are confirmed when he watches a small tabby cat hop on the high chair and inspect Rey's sleeping form, and Hux realizes in alarm that he had forgotten Millicent when he so ingloriously had dumped the scavenger in his quarters. Millicent, apparently having decided that Rey was interesting enough to investigate, slowly hops on the back of the chair. There's a butt wiggle from the cat and Hux's eyes widen, his throat closes shut, and he knows she's about to pounce.

He can already see it. The cat pounces and Rey, forever on guard, reacts and snaps his pet's neck.

He purses his lips and grabs at the edges of his desk, his knuckles turning white, because every one of his muscles itches to grab the kitten before anything can harm it, except he's hundreds of feet away somewhere else and he can do nothing but watch with mounting terror.

He's slowly reconciling himself with the idea of having to get another cat when Millicent does pounce. Rey's head snaps up, turns in disbelief, ready to defend herself, and… and Hux notices her chest rising and falling, quicker, her shoulders shaking. She's laughing.

Hux watches her relax in an instant, even through the holopad's projection from above. She turns in her seat with caution, then reaches back, gingerly holding a hand out for Millicent to inspect. The tabby closes in on her fingers, gives her hand a sniff or two, and then seems to approve enough because the next thing Hux sees is Millicent's tiny tabby head rubbing against Rey's hand and sneaking up her arm.

His eyebrows inch up. Millicent only tolerates _him_. _Barely_. The kitten is young enough to allow to be petted exactly three times before clawing into his hands, but he watches as Millicent makes her way into Rey's lap and stays there, happy to receive affection for as long as it lasts. Hux tries not to be a child about it and ignores the tiny hint of jealousy that tries to worm its way into his mind.

He turns the comm off with an sniff of disdain and leans back into his chair, refusing to watch the absurd scene of domesticity in front of him. Instead, he gets to work. Within an hour he plows through a mile-long list of small, tedious tasks that he had been ignoring in order to deal with his new prisoner. _Kylo Ren'_ s new prisoner, he reminds himself. This has nothing to do with him except for the currently-ongoing task of having to play nanny. He just needs to get through this until Ren returned.

Hux sends off a message to Phasma regarding the stormtroopers, and receives a reply within the minute that she'll look into it then report back. With that done, he sends off a command for a team of medics to inspect Rey, make sure she's not bringing any disease onto the ship, because the last thing he needs is an outbreak of something native to that trash heap of a planet she calls home, or worse, to get sick with it himself now that he's sharing his quarters with her. He also instructs for birth control to be implanted, any medication she needs to be given, and, for good measure, a tracking chip. He'll be damned if he loses her aboard the Finalizer again. The last missive goes to supply so that somebody gets her out of those baggy stolen stormtrooper clothes and into something decent.

He shuts off all comms, then, leaning right back into his chair and bringing two long fingers to his right temple. The migraine he's been carrying for weeks is still going like a jackhammer to his neurons. He exhales and brings back up his systems, checks his personal comm dangling from his wrist, and grinds his molars. Still no word from Snoke. At this point he wasn't sure he's ever going receive any summons.

Hux clicks all systems off and grabs his greatcoat, draping it over his broad shoulders and walking out, resolute to forget about the girl until he absolutely needs to face her. The rest of his day goes in a flurry of clipped orders and glares directed at his petty officers when they fail to do their work to perfection, sending them scurrying to fix it.

But the time to face her comes, and it comes fast.

Fifteen minutes to dinner time Hux finds himself standing in front of his door, still as a statue except for the small creaking of leather as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He knows how idiotic it is that he can't make himself enter his own quarters, has known it for the last ten minutes he's stood there, but there's something particularly unpleasant about the idea of walking into a space that has always been private and his to find somebody else invading it. With a final clench of his fist, he brings his right hand up to his mouth and tugs the glove off, then his fingers are hovering over the access pad a little longer than necessary. He hates it, that small moment of indecision. He's a man used to power and wielding it, he thinks, he can deal with a desert rat in a bedroom. Soon enough she won't be his problem anyway.

He checks himself. Checks his temper and his expression, relaxing every muscle one by one until he's sure he's wearing a mask of cool indifference, schools his eyes to release their frown. Hux breathes in once, twice, three times; his shoulders straighten, his head tilts back, his chest comes forward a fraction.

He presses his hand to the access pad and steels himself, the light outlining his fingers and palm before bleeping green. When the door opens, his face breaks into a small, tight smile. Rey is sitting exactly where she had been, albeit wearing different clothes than when he checked in on the comm. His words had actually sunk into that thick little skull of hers after all. She winces at the sound of the door opening but does not move. Millicent is still on her lap and that gives him something to break the ice with.

"I see you've acquainted yourselves," he says in a neutral voice, slowly shedding his greatcoat.

Rey looks up for a second before turning back to the little tabby, obviously keeping up her stubborn desire to not speak. Hux suppresses the contemptuous curl of his lip and walks past her and towards his bedroom. He hangs his greatcoat, taking care to smooth down the sleeves, fingers gently running over the bands denoting the rank of general to ensure they remained crisp. The silence stretches on and all he can hear is a soft purr from Millicent. Hux retreats to his refresher and shrugs out of his uniform jacket, carefully setting it aside before running the sink and splashing his face. The water's cold; ice cold, in fact, but it wakes him up and he's thankful for it. He never sleeps enough, but he doubts he'll be getting _any_ sleep tonight. He lets out a slow breath then shrugs his jacket back on, leaving it unbuttoned to the white undershirt beneath. These were his quarters. He would only forgo so many comforts for the sake of propriety here.

By the time he's done the door is chiming. He walks back out to the main room and Rey's eyes are trained on the door. Hux walks until he's at the access panel and confirms the request. A pair of attendants roll in a long, sleek trolley burdened with dishes. They drive it all the way through the room to where the long table he's accustomed to eating at stands, and he watches as a third attendant walks in hoisting a second chair to match his own, placing it at the opposite end.

The dishes are quickly placed on the table and the attending staff departs without so much as the sound of shuffling feet. They are awfully efficient. He would make sure Phasma praised the kitchen staff. Hux turns from the door and takes in Rey's form still curled into the chair.

"What is it?" she asks, and it takes him a split second to catch her meaning when, finally, she gingerly holds up Millicent's small body in her hands.

Ah.

Curious little thing.

"Have you not seen one before?" he asks, walking to where she is in slow, lazy steps. She gives his open coat a once over, but if that bothers her, nothing shows on her face. She shakes her head instead, turning back to stroking Millicent's small ears. The traitorous cat purrs contentedly and melts into her hands.

"It's a feline. A cat."

Rey's face betrays what Hux has come to think of as her otherwise resolute indifference to everything aboard the Finalizer when a wide smile creeps up on her lips. It lasts for a second, but it's bright enough to blind.

"A cat," she repeats, testing the word.

His eyes flicker to the cat once more then back to her face.

What a strange girl.

"Come," he orders, walking to the table and removing the covers from both her tray and his before settling himself at the head of the table to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her tense and busies himself with setting his napkin across his lap. Without waiting for a response, he lifts his wine glass, twirling the dark liquid a moment before taking a sip. This was another indulgence. From here on out, it's water only.

It is then that his peripheral vision picks up movement as she sets Millicent down slowly and comes to stand by her chair. She looks at her plate, at the chair, then slowly, very, very slowly, at him. Hux raises an eyebrow at her and sees a flush slowly beginning to bloom in her cheeks.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're thinking. Even I do not sink that low."

Rey huffs, fidgeting with the edges of her dark tunic.

He has to admit she looks rather fetching in First Order colors, black trousers snugly fitted around her slender legs, a black tunic falling to above her knees over the three quarter sleeved shirt of grey underneath, the banded red collar caressing her long neck. Her hair is still in those three ridiculous buns, but he imagines their luck could only be pressed so far. He absentmindedly raises his wine glass to his lips, sipping slowly and watching her over the crystal rim. She is obviously uncomfortable, but the way in which her eyes keep darting back to her plate tells him she is also starving and finding it very hard to resist the simple fare before her.

When she makes no move to sit, however, Hux lets out a long, exasperated breath and removes his napkin. He pushes his chair back slightly, walks the long way to where she stands and, ignoring the small jump she takes when he approaches, he forks a small piece of everything on her plate onto his fork and pushes it into his mouth. She watches him, eyes wide and unblinking, his own gaze pinned on hers for the few moments it takes him to chew, then he swallows.

"No poison," He says with finality as he turns back to his chair and settles himself in.

He then sets himself to the task of cutting the long piece of steak on his dish into smaller, edible pieces without waiting for her. He would not let his own meal go cold. He's rewarded when he hears the scrape of a chair being pulled back, the soft breath she lets out when she sits, and allows himself a small satisfied twitch of his lips. Until, that is, the sounds of slurping and open mouthed chewing hit his ears.

He can only watch, like a ship crash happening in front of his eyes. He knows he's staring. He knows he should not stare, but he can't drag his eyes away.

She must have noticed because suddenly she's lifting her face with a small trail of steak juice dangerously close to dribbling down her chin. She licks her lips, wipes her mouth on her sleeve - at which point Hux's mind is screaming in alarm - and opens her mouth.

"What?" she asks, defensively.

"I-" this is the first time the words have ever been stolen from him. He nearly panics, but recovers quickly.

"I hope the food is to your satisfaction," he says. Rey shrugs, and a small frown crowds itself between his brows.

"It's not?" he asks, "if it isn't, I can ask for something else to be brought up."

He doesn't know why he offers it. She's not _really_ his guest, and his own plate is no different than what she's been shoving into her mouth.

"No," she says, and when his frown deepens, she stutters, hurriedly trying to correct herself. "N-no, it's not that. It's fine. In fact, more than fine."

This is the most she's ever said to him outside of goading or insulting him. He takes it as a small white flag waved and wonders how he can use all of this to his benefit: her soft spot for Millicent, her obvious discomfort where food is concerned.

As if to prove a point, she looks at the fork in his hand and deliberately grabs her own from where it had laid untouched. She forks as much food as she can onto its prongs then shoves it all into her mouth, her eyes on him, as though he'd take it from her if she looked away.

So he nods and lowers his eyes to his own dish, allowing her the space to simply continue eating, all thoughts of advantages dissolved from his mind for the moment. He slowly eats the grains and meat on his plate, more focused on fueling himself than on enjoying it, and only looks up once again when all sounds from the other side of the table have stopped.

He finds Rey's eyes squinting at the goblet filled with red in front of her.

"Wine," he offers, returning to his food. "Make sure to take it slowly."

He's about to put some steak into his mouth when he hears a sputter, a choke, and a gasp. There's a fine wet mist covering half the table. Her glass is half empty.

"I told you to take it slowly."

Her only response is another strangled gasp as she hits her chest repeatedly. Hux can just barely hold back a low chuckle.

"Water will help."

Rey grabs for her goblet of water as though it's a lifeline, quickly emptying most of it. She rasps out something akin to thanks, but Hux cannot be sure. He returns to his food without a word.

The minutes stretch uncomfortably, the only sounds the click of his fork and knife and the slight sound of Rey's own fork pushing a single lonely blue bean on her plate. Hux wonders for a second why it hasn't been devoured yet.

"Why did you do it?"

"Why did I do what, exactly?" he asks, about to bite again.

"The Hosnian system. Why did you blow it up?"

Hux stops. His gaze is still on his plate, his hands held mid air, fork over knife, his shoulders hardening fractionally. Not an inch of him moves except for his lids when he glances up slowly.

"Why did you blow up Starkiller Base?" he asks, and her face takes on the look of a bruised apple, mottled with patches of red. He watches her fight with herself not to explode and potentially throw her plate at his head, but he's quickly learned that Rey's temper is kept on a very short leash.

"Because you're all killers! You're all monsters! You all go around killing billions of people!" she practically screams at him, and Hux can only task his brain with setting his silverware down slowly to keep from letting his temper match hers.

"And you? What do you think you did, that day?"

Rey reddens further, but her frown tells him she's not quite getting it.

"Did you really think Starkiller base was an empty planet, simply because it was also a weapon?"

Rey slams her hands on the table hard enough that his own plate jumps slightly. Hux simply raises an eyebrow.

"You killed billions!" she nearly screams, accusation heavy, anger even more so. It rolls onto him like a thick layer of oil.

"So did you," he replies calmly.

His words take her aback, the color on her face draining so fast that for a moment he wonders if she might faint.

She sits back in her chair, obviously mute, and Hux picks up the knife from where it had clattered on the table, returning to his food and considering the matter closed.

But she's not done.

"I didn't kill billions of people…" she mutters, her eyes firmly on her lap. "I only tried to save my friends."

"I didn't press the big red button, either," he supplies, suddenly losing all appetite. He sets his silverware down on his mostly unfinished food, "and I did it to save my men as well."

Rey looks up at him then.

"Save your men?" she asks, incredulous.

Hux leans back, arms resting on the arms of his chair, Studying her while she shifts uncomfortably the longer his gaze lingers on her. He thinks back to all the men, all the families that had been under his care. All the people who didn't make it onto ships for evacuation. All the souls lost.

"How many people do you think have died in this war, Rey?" he asks.

Rey's eyes snap up to his face, obviously angry and uncomfortable that he would drag her name into this fight.

"How many?" he presses and she fidgets.

When she provides nothing, Hux narrows his eyes, his gaze steely.

"Too many," he says. "And how many more do you think would have died in the next, what… five? Ten years?"

Rey lets out a choked sound that may or may not have been an answer. He continues, indifferent.

"The answer is, it doesn't matter," he finally answers. "They would have all died. In a big tidal wave or in a trickle, billions of lives would have been lost. So yes, I did it to save my men. I did it to spare them the agony of having to watch families die slowly, by war or by the absolute lack of law and principle this new _Republic_ of yours promotes."

He knows he should stop. He can hear his breath coming in quicker puffs of air, his voice rising, but Rey's only turning colder and steely in front of him and it is grinding the wrong gears in him tonight. This is too close to home, too soon, too quickly. So much for not letting her rile him.

"Do you think that your Resistance is innocent in all of this?" he asks - more like hisses it at her - and this finally makes her react.

"Of- Of course not!" she yells, strands of hair flying wild as she shakes her head, standing. "No one's innocent!" she bites out angrily at him.

Hux breathes in a deep drag of air and tries to control himself.

"Then why are you defending them?" he asks.

This brings her up short. She falls back to her seat with a thud.

"Because they're fighting for the right cause," she whispers.

"And what is that?" he asks.

Rey's little gears seem to start going a million miles an hour in her head. After a pregnant pause, she finally replies.

"Freedom, order, progress. Peace."

Hux smiles.

"Same as I, then."

Rey recoils as if slapped.

Hux decides he's had enough of this. He lets his napkin fall to his seat and walks away from the table towards his room, leaving Rey behind looking properly chastised.

He steps into the small walk-in closet, one of the few nice things being a General allows for, and pulls down an extra set of blankets and a pillow. When he returns Rey is still slumped in her chair, looking sullen and sad. He refuses to feel pity. He had meant every word, and had been civilized and dare he say _friendly_ enough to attempt to have a meal unperturbed with a person considered his enemy in every sense of the word. So he lets her stew and simply walks to the long couch, dropping the blankets and pillow on it.

"You will sleep here." He informs her, leaving no room for arguing.

"There is an extra towel in the refresher," he continues, "and extra toiletries. I suggest you use them."

Then he turns on his heel and walks to his kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and taking long strides towards the door on the left. He opens it and misses Rey's eyes lift just enough to see him walking into his office, her curiosity getting the best of her, before he shuts the door slowly behind him. He refuses to let her see how much she's riled him.

* * *

Hux has been sitting in his chair for the better part of an hour staring at the opposite wall. He toys with the bottle in his hands absentmindedly, waiting for anything to distract him from his thoughts, but nothing comes, not from Phasma, not from Kylo, not from Snoke. Not even a damned report. He knows that everyone expects him to be dining at the moment, and sighs. He could use a distraction.

Except the only distraction that comes to mind is the stubborn girl on the other side of the door.

He hadn't lied to her. Every single one of his actions were _justified_. Everything he did had a reason, and every reason usually ended with continuing his family legacy and creating a world in which, perhaps some day, he could carry on the name of Hux and know his children would not have to fight his battles.

 _Not that you'll ever find anyone to carry it on with_ , he thinks bitterly. His life revolved around the Order and command of his ship. Neither of which left him much personal time or space to pursue such a thing when he was too busy running much bigger ones.

Hux shakes the thought aside. There are better things to worry about than a future that may never happen. He had worked too hard, sacrificed too much to get here. He could not afford to be distracted.

He twirls the bottle in between his fingers.

That future may never happen, but he had to worry about a future nonetheless. He thinks back to the girl on the other side, worrying at his lip in the privacy of his office.

He knew that Snoke wanted her trained, _turned_ , he had said. He knew this, and knew that she could be a powerful ally, in her own way, but the part of Hux that knew how to read people also knew that she was far too… _too…moral_ , was the word Hux thought of. She was far too moral for war, far too moral for the ugliness that came with it. Her own moral compass was too decidedly pointed to the side of _justice_ to understand that justice was a manmade concept that too often failed. She had power, but it was raw and crude, and she had little control of it on her own.

Hux knew she was whip smart. Deceivingly so. She _had_ to be in order to pull the escape stunts she'd pulled. She had to be in order to match wits with him at his level. She was a cunning little thing, and perhaps that would work in their favor, yet she only displayed those traits when it suited her. And she was as stubborn and unmovable as a boulder, to boot. For a second, he almost pities Kylo Ren. _Almost_. The man has his work cut out for him.

The thought of Ren brings him up short and he moves to check his comm again, expecting silence.

Except as soon as he looks there, a solid bar appears as if it had been waiting for him to look.

A message.

He clicks it.

Slowly, a sense of dread both warm and cold develops at the pit of his stomach and unfurls until it encloses and constricts around his chest. He had been waiting for this for so long that he had forgotten the anxiety these messages would deliver every time, and this time he has far more to answer for than any other summons he'd ever received. It was Snoke.

Slowly, carefully, he reads his summons.

He sets down the half empty water bottle on his desk with an obnoxious amount of care and stands.

Time to face the music.

He leaves his office and is almost thankful to note that Rey's not there to see his face. She must have gone to the refresher.

He forgoes his greatcoat and simply zips his jacket in place, then makes his way in long, hurried steps towards the amphitheater where he knows the giant hologram of his leader will be waiting. It takes him no time at all, though it feels like a lifetime, until he's standing in front of the long doors.

Hux lowers his head, taking a few steadying breaths. For all he knows, he's walking to his death.

His bare fists clench until his knuckles turn white, short fingernails digging into his palms, and he uses the small pain to center him and bring him back from the noxious cloud of anxiety floating above his head. He takes another deep breath, one that perhaps could be his last, and unclenches his hands. Then he's throwing the giant doors open and walking up to the dais, and he has to force himself to keep his eyes lowered rather than look around for his potential executioners.

He waits for the pain to come. He waits for as long as it takes him to reach the center of the amphitheater's small standing platform. He waits while he lowers himself and kneels there, and trains his eyes on his boots, biting the inside of his cheek until he's tasting blood.

The silence stretches on. Hux's hands are starting to get clammy.

He wonders how long he'll be kept guessing before he meets the end of blaster fire, or the wrong side of a lightsaber. Would Kylo Ren be waiting, in the shadows, for orders to take Hux's head? He itches to look, but keeps his eyes lowered.

"Rise, General," comes the drawl of the massive hologram he's facing.

Hux forces himself to stand on steady legs, though his knees are anything but steady.

"Supreme Leader," he starts, only to be frozen in place.

Panic rises along with bile in his throat.

"Silence, boy," Snoke snaps.

Hux almost misses the fact that he can blink, but when he notices, he shuts his eyes so hard his facial muscles hurt, then forces himself to open them. If he's to die, he won't die a coward.

"You failed." Snoke continues.

Hux's tongue is frozen to the roof of his mouth.

"I should have your head, Hux." Snoke's voice has turned slippery, dulcet; the sort of sound the Supreme Leader makes when he's toying with his prey, right before devouring it with darkness.

"I should have your head, and the heads of your commanders, and the heads of your incompetent troops, who couldn't stop a gaggle of pilots, a couple of children, and a furry _Wookie_ armed with a bowcaster and a handful of explosives from blowing up the most impressive weapon this side of the universe!"

Snoke's voice has risen from a dulcet drawl to an angry roar, and Hux is thankful he's frozen. It keeps him from visibly flinching.

Silence, then.

So much silence.

The Amphitheater is drowned in what Hux can only describe as onyx coated anger. He may not be a Force user, but some things are strong enough to raise the hackles of any red blooded human being. This feeling is one of them.

"I should have your head…." Snoke says, his voice controlled once more, and Hux waits for the pain. Steels himself for it.

"But I won't."

At this, the hold that had frozen him in place is released and Hux nearly chokes. He dares look up, then.

"You— You won't?" he asks, disbelieving.

"My dear _child_ ," Snoke croons, and Hux's hackles rise once more, "Your head remains on your shoulders by the sheer fact that you managed to take the Hosnian system and the seat of the Republic down with you. Consider it a blessing."

At this, the conversation with Rey sparks in his brain. He can't help himself. The mere mention of the Hosnian system brings up the image of an angry, shouting Rey screaming into his face with all disregard for his station, or his power, or the fact that she was at his mercy, in his room.

Snoke plucks it from his mind with delight.

"What is _this_?" Snoke asks, and Hux has the very distinct feeling that the creature before him is turning that memory around his fingers like a curious artifact. Hux almost curses himself, not for offering up the memory, but for allowing his mind to be so clearly exposed. He had been too wrapped up in his own fear of execution to even consider that his mind would betray him and turn him into an open book.

"You have the girl?" Snoke asks, the tone of his voice losing all sense of rage, his eyes holding a curious glint.

"I-" he starts, then clears his throat. "Yes, my Lord. I thought Kylo Ren had informed you?"

Snoke waves a hand of dismissal. Hux narrows his eyes a fraction.

"But she's in your quarters," Snoke continues, "not in a cell?"

At this, Hux clamps his jaw shut and grinds his teeth, staring straight ahead rather than at Snoke's face.

"She escaped, my Lord." He supplies at a clip. "Twice."

The sound that comes from Snoke is nothing Hux could ever consider human. It's something between a rumble and a coarse grinding of something immensely ancient and rarely used. A deep rasp repeated over and over to sound like a comical yet terrifying version of laughter.

"Is that so?" Snoke quips, his voice full of eerie mirth. "Clever little thing."

Hux hesitates.

"Yes, my Lord."

"So you've kept her in your quarters?" the grating, curious rasp is back in Snoke's voice. That Snoke keeps returning to this fact sets Hux on edge.

"It is the only place she cannot escape from," Hux provides in a light tone he hopes comes off as neutral and uninvested. "Not unless she has access to my biometrics, which I would never allow."

Snoke lets out a long thoughtful hum, chin resting over long spindly fingers as his large, inhuman eyes watch Hux like one would an ant under a magnifying glass.

Hux simply stands, his eyes glued to a spot in the middle of Snoke's robes, where he does not have to look at the creature in the eye, waiting for Snoke to pass judgement or give orders.

With all the time in the world on his end, Snoke simply sits there, lazily swinging his fingers below his chin, his other hand drumming a slow beat on the arm of his throne.

"What an interesting development," Snoke says, and Hux frowns.

What development?

He's about to ask the very same words when Snoke silences him with a finger.

"You're dismissed."

Hux nearly protests, but at this point, the fact that he's escaping with his head on his shoulders is the only motivation he needs to give a deep bow, hold it for a second longer than necessary - something that seems to amuse Snoke, who lets out a low chortle as his hologram disappears - before Hux turns on his heel and storms out as quickly as his feet will carry him.

He'd survived.

Once outside the amphitheater Hux leans a hand against a wall and crunches in on himself as he hurls. Everything he'd ever eaten, including the meager excuse for a dinner he'd had with Rey comes rushing up and out of his system. He holds his stomach as he retches, his guts spilling out of him, all the fear he'd been holding for the last three weeks coming up in the form of bile.

He stands there, curled over his own vomit, rasping and catching his breath.

He'd survived.

With a glance at the pool of yellow slowly inching toward his boots, Hux takes a step back and glares at it, as if it's at fault for everything that's happened to him. Then he turns and sends Phasma a quick message about clean up. She'll send some poor soul here to deal with it, his mind already too preoccupied to feel even remotely bad about the mess he left behind.

He regains his composure with every step he takes away from the amphitheater despite the tremble in his right hand. He breathes in deeply. Every breath feels brand new, deliciously crisp even from the recycled air of the ship. No one's around as he passes through halls and goes up lifts, no one's around to notice the disheveled look of his hair from where he's run his fingers through repeatedly. No one's around to notice the small specks of spit on his boots from his episode of weakness. No one's around to notice that he's unzipped his coat once more, trying to just get air in and out of his lungs. By the time he makes it back to his room, it's dark. The ship is silent. He frowns. He hadn't been in Snoke's presence that long, at least in his mind. But he knew sometimes the creature had a tendency to warp time without ever being present.

He opens the door and slides in quietly, kicking off his shoes and tossing the jacket aside without a thought. He tugs his undershirt from the waist of his trousers, shivering at the cold air hitting his midriff and his arms like a blast. He's about to start unclipping his belt when a small shift under blankets pulls him up short. His head turns ever so slowly to the couch and his hands fall from his midsection.

From underneath a bundle of blankets and a big pillow Hux notices an impossibly bright pair of eyes staring at him. Perhaps it's the cover of the blankets, or that she's fully covered when he nearly had stripped in front of her, that makes Rey watch him boldly rather than avert her eyes.

They stay like this for a heartbeat. Long enough for his chest to rise and fall slowly, then he raises an eyebrow and the spell breaks.

"What, do you need a better view?"

Rey's eyes immediately snap to the lilies sitting in their crystal vase in front of her.

Hux collects his jacket with the tiniest of tugs playing at his lips, walking past her head, looking down just long enough to notice as she sinks into the pillow and tries to hide the closer he approaches. He shakes his head lightly and continues onto his room. It would always be like this, he realizes. Even with the smallest of gestures, Hux and Rey would forever be locked in a battle of wills, struggling for the upper hand over the other.

He'd need to remember that she slept there now, before walking in and trying to undress himself on the spot. He flops onto his bed and sighs, reaching out to his nightstand and pulling a drawer open to grab at a pack of cigarettes and a lighter he kept there. The second in a day. This girl would drive him to his grave, and this situation has been in place than twenty four hours.

He ignites the tip and breathes it in, the smell of a fresh lit cigarette carrying its own thrill and its own little form of addiction, then he's taking a deep, long, slow drag through his teeth. He knows he shouldn't smoke in his room, but it was either calm himself down this way or take himself in hand and that was the last thing he would ever do with the scavenger not twenty feet away from him. His fingers still tremble around the small stick held in his hand, and he stares at the lit end as the embers turn to ash. He lets it build, longer and longer.

"General?" comes the soft voice from the other side of his door and he jumps.

A clump of searing hot ash falls on his bare chest and he curses, just barely avoiding an undignified yelp.

"Kriff!" he hisses to himself.

"… General?" comes Rey's voice again, this time with a distinctive strain of alarm.

Hux sighs.

"One moment."

He gets up, sets the stick of death in an ashtray, for he knows the damn things aren't good for him, and pulls his discarded undershirt back on. His bare feet pad all the way to the door and he opens it with a yank. She jumps. Hux leans against the door frame, blocking most of her view, and raises an eyebrow at her. Despite both his and her lack boots, the tip of her head hovers somewhere just below his chin. This close, she has to take a half step back and look up in order to find his eyes, and when she does, he has a clear view of all the freckles thrown across her face.

"What can I help you with?" he asks, all professionalism, when she makes no move to speak.

She hesitates, then, before looking at her toes. Or maybe it's his she's looking at. Hux refuses to confirm that for himself.

"What did you have them put in my arm? Earlier, I mean."

Hux masks his surprise. She wanted to talk about her _medical exam_?

"Why do you ask?"

"Because it's my damn body and I'd like to know what a man like you is forcing on me!"

Hux's brows raise and he straightens.

He takes a step back.

"Antibiotics, mostly." He replies automatically in a near robotic tone, "Who knows what diseases you've brought on board with you. Also a contraceptive."

At the look of absolute horror and disgust that crosses her face, it hits him all at once that she thinks…

How could she _think_ something like that of him?

The logical part of his brain chimes in it is not a farfetched worry to have. Not for her. She is aboard an enemy ship surrounded by people who hate her, with no clear way to defend herself. Rape has long been used as a weapon of war, and as a woman, she would always be on the receiving end of such atrocity. He stiffens further.

"It will keep you from getting pregnant should you engage in relations with anyone on this ship," he continues in a monotone, "Stormtroopers are known for being crass, and I will personally make sure no such harm comes to you, but some can be rather charming."

He hopes his clarification forces her mind off the path she'd gone on, and a twisted sense of satisfaction creeps on him at giant red blooms taking over her cheeks. _Good_.

"It will also keep you from your menstrual cycle should you engage in training with Kylo Ren."

He supplies the last nail to that coffin and watches her swallow hard.

"I thought I was a prisoner?" she asks, trying desperately to derail the conversation.

Hux shrugs.

"Do you _want_ to be a prisoner?"

She doesn't answer him, and he doesn't expect an answer. In all honesty, he doesn't want it. Some things are better left to the people who will deal with them, and he's not the one who's going to be dealing with her. So, instead, he continues.

"The third implant is a tracker."

Rey lets out a loud, huffy gasp, obviously insulted that such a thing would be planted on her.

"Wha—Why?!" she asks, affronted.

" _You_ tell _me._ You were the one who tried to escape twice."

Rey's nostrils flare, telling him with her eyes that she'd be just as happy escaping his room if only she could find a way to.

He smirks at her.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks.

She hesitates, then nods her head lightly.

"Did they not explain this to you?" he asks, tilting his head a hair.

"They were not very…forthcoming, no," she says, "They seemed really uncomfortable to be near me, really. Not much conversation took place."

Hux's left eye twitches. He makes yet another mental note, adding it to the running list of hundreds.

"Is there anything else?" he asks.

When she shakes her head and turns to retreat, he closes the door with a soft click and returns to his bed, settling in for a long night. He grabs a holopad from the drawer to his side and quickly types in a memo, picking up what's left of the cigarette and smoking it in slowly, blowing it out the side of his mouth.

He'd just set it on the tray and started typing in another memo when a second round of knocking comes. His brows rise all the way to his hairline this time.

What now?

He takes two long steps and opens the door rather more briskly than he intended, but says nothing.

Rey flinches, again.

 _Such a jumpy creature_ , he muses, _scared of her own shadow_.

"Uh…" she starts, and now Hux pays attention because she's absolutely _fidgeting_ , switching her weight back and forth on her feet, holding the pillow tightly to her chest as if it were the only thing keeping her standing in front of him.

"Yes?" he asks, trying to infuse his voice with calm and kindness.

Rey looks up at him.

"Uhm… I'm sorry," she blurts out in a rush, but the fidgeting's stopped and she's standing as still as she possibly can, visibly steeling herself for rejection or worse.

"Why?" he presses, gently, part of him wanting this as much as he wants air in his lungs.

"I—" She fidgets again, seemingly losing her nerve for a second, before she rushes through the words, "I yelled at you. In your home." Rey looks up then, her lips stiff and her hands digging into the pillow at her chest, "While you offered me a meal and clothing freely, I yelled at you. I am sorry."

 _Too moral for her own good._

Hux nods, but he remains quiet and still as he possibly can. She doesn't look like she's done, and he'd hate to stop this amazing display of humility before it's over.

"I am also sorry for shouting at you about the—the…" she waves her hand in the air in an exasperated huff, obviously uncomfortable talking about it, but finishes with a carefully selected, "medical care."

Hux nods once more.

Then the Rey he's come to know snaps back into place and he's unsure whether he feels regret or relief when she turns up her nose at him, haughty as she can manage, and glares him down.

"I still don't believe in what you do. I think it's awful, and immoral and wrong, and I will never agree with any of it."

 _There you are…_ he croons to himself, but she barges on.

"I don't agree with any of it. But…"

At this, Hux's breath hitches. There's a ' _but_ ' to this?

"Yes?"

"But…perhaps..maybe, one day, when you're not busy… you'll tell me more?"

Then she switches her weight again to her left foot, utters a rushed good night, and all but runs into her makeshift bed on the couch.

Hux is left standing like an idiot at his own door, and his eyes switch from wide to narrow in the semi darkness.

"Why?" he calls to her in a low almost-whisper, instantly suspicious.

He gets no answer.

Soon enough, all he hears is the deep, slow breathing coming from the direction of the couch, and he wonders if she heard him at all.

He turns on his heel and shuts the door behind him.

No, he would get no sleep tonight.

* * *

Notes: Thank you for reading! I hope to hear what you guys think of the story so far :) leave a comment!

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Salute Your Solution - The Raconteurs  
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	5. Playing with Fire

Summary: Kylo Trains, Hux plots, and Rey learns how to use a shower.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

* * *

Thump.

Another body.

Kylo ren watches it as it falls to the floor lifelessly, eyes already glazed over, and another pinprick of life extinguishes from the Force. He swings around as blaster fire aims for his head and a sword swings at him, twirling to block it on a downward stroke. He pushes, the sword resisting the force of his saber, some ancient creation that Kylo had thought lost to time. Perhaps Snoke has rediscovered the secret to creating saber-resistant metal, after all. With a round twirl of his saber, the sword goes flying, and a second later, the swordsman's head goes flying off his shoulders with it. He, too, falls in pieces to the floor, adding to the count surrounding him.

He does not remember the last time he'd seen sunlight. His days have been wrapped up in this, sweat and blood and grime and death; with nothing to look forward to but short bouts of restless sleep and for the cycle to begin anew the next day. Snoke said this was to be part of his training. Kylo had taken it for what it was, another exercise of the Darkness under the guidance of the Supreme Leader. He had bowed and done as requested of him, immersing himself in battle, one against dozens, every day, until nobody stood but him.

Kylo thinks of how long it had been since his hands had been clean of the blood of others as his saber quickly dispatches with another two soldiers, wet patches where blood flows pooling on their dark robes. And so they keep falling, and in Kylo's mind there is nothing but silence and darkness.

Or, at least, Kylo wishes there was nothing but silence. Somewhere in the back of his mind, detached and far apart from the reality of his training, one day bleeding into the next, there is a soft hum; faint but consistently there. He hears it at night, has heard it for a month now; an incessant chime in the distance, a flickering mirage, seemingly insubstantial, but there nonetheless. Kylo breathes in deep through clenched teeth, the gash crossing from brow bone to collarbone aching and burning. He's covered in sweat and ichor; it's been hours of physical exertion, but he continues with his task at hand.

Bodies fall, he dances like Death incarnate, limbs and heads flying off his opponents, screams drowning out the small hum in the back of his head. He knows Snoke wants to shred him of any hint of humanity left, until there's nothing less but cold lack of feeling, and he would think that perhaps it's working, that perhaps his past mistakes are finally becoming irrelevant, that at the end he will achieve his ultimate goal of feeling nothing but the Dark side of the Force. Yet all he feels is numb.

Numb and exhausted.

The final body falls with a last scream, then there are only the sounds of gurgling as the man chokes on his own vomit. Kylo watches a small pool of urine bloom around the man's trousers and soon it begins to mix with the ever growing spread of blood. Kylo turns off his saber and steps back.

His robes are in shreds, he's covered in cuts, shallow and deep wounds alike - more scars to add to his collection - a small lock of his hair is singed where blaster fire got a bit too close, and all Kylo can feel is a bone-deep ache. He lets his head fall, and suddenly the darkness around him shakes, the room shifts, and he's standing inside his small quarters.

At first Kylo wondered what could possibly achieve this, to transport him from one place to another without him feeling a thing. By the second day, he'd wonder if the fights he fought were imaginary, if the people who died were only apparitions, but the wounds he wore now all in varying degrees of healing were very real, as real as the screams had been. By the seventh day, he had stopped wondering. His mind had been tasked to getting through another blood curling massacre until he was deposited back in his room.

Kylo collapses on his small bed - if you can call a wood frame and a thin mattress a bed - robes on and sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, his temples, the back of his neck. He aches in places he did not believe he could ache any longer, covered in cuts and minor wounds that still bled, but he can barely bring in breath to his lungs, much less bother to get up and unclothe himself.

He closes his eyes and focuses on breathing, falling into a meditative trance. It is in moments like these, between waking and sleeping, between alertness and meditation, that the hum inside his mind intensifies. He allows himself to inspect it, safely in his room, his consciousness flying to it and wrapping around it, hovering but never touching, like a moth drawn to a flame.

His breath slowly, carefully, matches the hum inside his mind. Somehow it simply falls in step with the glowing little thrum of energy lighting up the darkness of his thoughts; his aches start to dissipate, his body stops sweating, and ever so slowly, a strength he did not know he could possess, after so many days of brutal training, seeps back into his limbs. He wants to believe it is the power of meditation in the Force, but this renewal inside of him had never happened before, no matter how deeply or how long he meditated. This is something new.

His awareness falters, just for a second, while he considers what he must do next. In the depths of darkness within his mind, a small voice caresses him and urges him to touch it, touch this glow of energy, instigating him to try and understand it better. He floats, turning circles in his mind around this thing that had been consuming his thoughts, cautious.

Curiosity wins.

He reaches for this _thing_ that's been humming in his mind, firmly pressed into his thoughts. In the beginning, he had thought this was the Light side of the Force. He had been reminded so often by Snoke that he still possessed it, that he should work harder to try and rid himself of it. Snoke had been his guide now for years, the way a Master Jedi guided their own padawans. He knew how his family had seen it, had learned it that fateful day he took his own father's life; they believed he had been coerced into his path. Kylo Ren had simply chosen a new master. His true reason for his path rested on a crystal box atop the small table in the room: his grandfather's mangled mask, forever calling to him, strengthening him, anchoring him in the Darkness as not even Snoke's teachings could. He existed to avenge his grandfather, the beliefs so true and right that had been twisted by the Light side before his death. He had hated himself, then, after his colossal failure, when suddenly this little bud of lightness sprung to life inside of his mind. Hadn't he done what he must? Hadn't he _killed his own father_ to extinguish this same light? Hadn't he spent the last so many days killing, killing, killing, raining blood on himself and others, just to extinguish it? Yet it is still there.

A tendril of fear sneaks up Kylo's spine at the thought of touching it.

Would it engulf him? Would it grow? Would it burn away his very awareness? The little voice in his brain caresses his mind again and he growls. It sounds too much like the small voice of a young boy Kylo had chosen to bury so long ago, had murdered for eternity and left behind, forgotten in the sands of time. A Boy made of light that Kylo had no room in his life for.

But the pull this bundle of Light creates is too strong, and Kylo Ren too weak.

After what feels like eternity, he allows his awareness to brush the Light.

* * *

Millions of miles and systems away, Rey jerks awake with a gasp.

She scrambles up the couch and looks around in a panic, for a moment not recognizing her surroundings, until she feels a small ball of orange fur twitch then stretch with a low purr.

The sight of the kitten brings her back to reality. She's inside General Hux's living space.

Rey's hand is still bunched up in her chest, a tightness threatening to shut off her airways, and the headache that's starting to bloom in the back of her mind makes her eyes water. It spreads like a wildfire from a single pinprick somewhere in her brain, the flames of that fire engulfing her thoughts as it roars over her and suddenly she feels consumed in its heat.

Rey drops her head in her hands and rubs at her eyes furiously, wiping away the wetness from her lashes as she takes in a deep breath.

She had been dreaming, she thinks. She can barely recall anything now, after waking up so suddenly, except her heart hurts for some reason she cannot fathom, and screams she's sure she's never heard in her waking moments rattle around her brain like an echo. The longer she sits with her face in her hands, the softer and less jarring the screams become, until there's nothing left of them but a vague memory.

Rey sighs and gets up, listening to the kitten beside her purr once more.

She stretches, a full body stretch into the air that curls her toes under her, until all the sleep is chased from her muscles and Rey falls back into a semi-standing position, shoulders slumped forward, arms dangling at her sides. She looks around once more, thoughts of the previous night coming to her in bursts and she cringes.

Her hand rubs down her face and she groans. She had made an utter fool of herself. Repeatedly.

Her mind flies back to her heated exchange with the general and Rey considers falling back into the grey leather couch and fusing with it, refusing to acknowledge the man ever again. But it's been a week of constant run-ins with the man now and she admits to herself that it's a little too late for that.

It was the early hours of the morning, the overhead daylights still set to dim, and Rey thinks perhaps now would be a good time to make herself scarce. She would get herself ready for the day as quietly as possible then… She looks around. She had nowhere to go, except this room. It was a comfortable room, the couch had certainly been more comfortable than most places she'd ever slept in, but the room was still a prison, albeit a well equipped one. Rey figured she could always just make herself small on her chair - the chair, she corrects, refusing to start claiming anything of his as her own - where she had sat in the day before.

Rey walks towards the General's quarters and worries at her lower lip. What if he is still there, sleeping?

But the only way through to the refresher is through his room.

With a nod to herself, Rey steels her spine and very slowly opens up the door. She's glad that it makes no noise, the Order keeps its doors very well oiled, apparently, and then breathes a giant sigh of relief when she sees the bed has been perfectly made and he's nowhere to be seen. Except it's an ungodly hour of the morning, by the alarm clock on the bedside table, and Rey wonders if the man ever sleeps.

Knowing he's not around immediately forces the lead out of her spine and she relaxes, padding over to the refresher. Rey removes her clothes down to her underthings and grabs a towel. She turns on the sink's water once, wets the towel, and sets about cleaning herself down, turning the water back on and off to dampen it again when she's run out of moisture. She refuses to waste water, that's as close to committing a sin as murder, she huffs in her mind as she towels down her right arm.

Her thoughts are taken up with the exchange last night as she works the damp towel over her skin. Rey had seen a side of the man that she very much doubted he ever showed to anyone else. Had he felt…compassion, for the deaths of so many people? No, Rey thinks, not that. Compassion would have kept him from murdering so many people in the first place. The man's hands ran with so much red Rey could not think of a single way for him to scrub it off. But there had been a hint there, of something. Regret, perhaps? Except if he felt regret, Rey was sure it was not for the people on the other side of the war who had lost everything. The only regret General Hux could ever feel would be for the losses Hux himself suffered. Still, there was something about the way in which he had spoken that had made a small amount of sense to her, much to her discomfort.

She scrubs at her skin harder than necessary, replaying the conversation in a loop. He had set her up for it, she knew, now that she could examine the exchange. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. He had guided her until she had admitted that her goals—the _resistance's_ goals—were not all that different from his.

Her administrations to her body continue on for a few minutes while she mulls on that persistent fact: water on and off, toweling of her arms, water on and off, start on the left leg, propped on the counter.

It was that fact that had made her ask something of him that she never thought she would: the time to understand what he had meant by it all. A small line between the sides that delineated black and white in her mind had been blurred. So small yet insistently tugging at her, at her need to comprehend the world around her. She had been stuck on a planet with nothing but sand for over a decade, and Rey hated going out into a galaxy she did not understand. She wanted to learn, to understand, and then make her decisions based on that knowledge.

Water on, water off.

So she would take whatever knowledge he imparted, tuck it into her mind, and use it once she found a way to get out of this damned room and off this blasted ship. Perhaps she would give the resistance the information she received. Make this an even fight. Would that make her a spy?

Rey decided to go about inspecting the room for weaknesses after her shower. There _had_ to be some way to leave. She refused to believe the only way out was with his fingerprints—

"Pray tell, what exactly are you doing?"

Rey screams and her towel goes flying as she whips herself around to face the door, her hands instinctively fisting for a fight. She had been so lost in her own thoughts she had heard absolutely nothing coming at her. The alarm bells inside her brain were going haywire.

The towel lands on the floor in front of her with a wet smack.

Standing just a few steps outside of the door is General Hux, his great coat draped over his shoulders like an impressive cloak, covered in black from the bottom of his Adam's apple all the way to his toes, the only colors he sports are the shock of his red hair, his cold blue eyes and the soft pink hue of his lips. He's fresh shaven and there is not a single hair out of place.

 _How does he even manage that at this ungodly hour?_

When she says nothing, he takes a step forward, forcing Rey to take a step back. He stops just at the door, arching an eyebrow at her.

"That's an interesting way to shower," He murmurs with only obvious disinterest, face devoid of any sort of expression.

Rey straightens herself. She does not cover her scantily clad figure; she has nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of, and she would never show any sort of weakness to the man in front of her. So instead she very slowly drops her fists, takes a step forward to regain the ground she lost, and bends at the waist to pick up the wet towel from the ground. She would not allow him the upper hand.

"It's efficient and quick," she replies, making sure to keep her face as stonily as his own, "in lieu of a sonic shower."

Hux watched her, considering, his eyelids twitching slightly closer, and Rey watched as his hands carefully came up to rest in front of his chest, his one hand caressing the edge of his black leather glove, unaware that he's doing it.

"I can never fault a soul when it comes to efficiency," his tone of voice is that of a man who prizes efficiency perhaps above all else. Then his eyes travel lightly to the bathtub before returning to her face, "but you know, one of the few pleasures of having access to a general's private refresher - one of the few pleasures of life, really - is also having access to a bath and a regular shower."

He thinks better of it then when his hands drop again to his sides.

"You are not forbidden from using them while you remain my guest."

At his proposition, Rey moves turns to the sink, partly to deposit her wet towel in it, and partly to avoid his gaze. Rey had promised to herself that she would not take any kindnesses from anyone aboard this ship again, but she also was aware that she was toeing a very fine line in her precarious situation. She nods, and he must have taken this as acquiesce, because the next sound Rey hears is that of footsteps walking away.

She stands there for a heartbeat, her eyes turning to travel to the massive white clawfoot bathtub sitting in the circular space, then quickly to the large shower built into the wall. It was large enough that she could see a raised area meant to sit on. Rey found the idea insane, who would sit while showering? But then her mind came back to the falling footsteps and curiosity got the better of her.

She pokes her head out of the refresher.

"Wait!"

The footsteps stop, and for a heartbeat Rey worries that the man will simply just walk away, but then they resume and get louder in her direction. A moment later, General Hux appeared in front of her, tall and looming, his brow furrowed.

He did not speak, forcing Rey to break the silence.

"I would….appreciate…your help." She begins. He's as rigid and silent as a stone. She continues, eyes firmly planted on the shower to the side of the room. "I am not sure how to operate the…"

Rey waves her hand at the shower, biting on her cheek to keep herself from flushing over this. She's not ashamed of her lack of knowledge. It's not as though she had been given many chances to come in contact with accommodations like these; but there is something very, very uncomfortable about having to admit it to someone like General Hux. There is zero of the hilarity and warmth that she shared with Finn when he had learned the same thing about her, zero of the light teasing and easy encouragement when he had taught her how to operate a sonic shower. All there was here was a man who obviously did not want her to be here, and Rey in a place she did not want to be.

She keeps her eyes on the glass panels, the black marble walls and chrome details for a hair longer than necessary before looking at where the general stands. He hasn't even twitched.

Then he's walking past her with quiet steps, slowly removing the greatcoat from his shoulders. He hangs the bulky thing on a towel hanger and her eyes can't help but rest on it; kept to perfection, no wrinkle or loose threads, the lapels crisp, the collar clean, the sleeves ridiculously sharp, the bands denoting his rank a beautiful silvery grey fabric.

She notices him watching her then, out of the corner of her eye; there's a curious glint in his gaze, but he does nothing outside of clearing his throat lightly to catch her attention. Rey turns to face him and he extends his hand towards the shower, urging her closer. She approaches, careful to keep enough space between his body and hers.

"This controls which shower heads turn on," he says, pointing to a small white dial built into the wall, then towards the shower heads above and to the immediate sides angled inward.

"This one controls pressure," He guides her eyes towards a small black dial next to the white one.

"This handle controls the temperature by degrees," he says, finally, grabbing at the chrome handle and turning it with the shower off. "Turn it left for cold and right for hot water."

He steps back then, and points to the cabinet. "There is soap and other toiletries in there, if you'd like."

He turns around then without a word and collects his greatcoat, making it for the door.

"Thank you," she calls out to him.

He stops once more and nods without turning to look at her, before striding out the room. A minute later she hears the faint sound of the access pad to his quarters beep, and a set of doors sliding shut.

Rey sighs and strips the rest of her clothing, giving the shower a wary glance. This would be a new experience.

After fumbling with buttons and the handle, she gets the water to where she wants it: near scalding. She steps under the jets, feeling the steam swirl around her, and sighs as muscles she hadn't been aware were sore start to slowly unknot and relax. The sensation of so much water raining down on her is such a delight she nearly forgets herself and her situation when a giggle escapes her lips. This was wonderful!

She thinks to herself that she _definitely_ will take up the general's offer to use his shower more often. And as she allows the heat to bring her down to a state of contentment, all leftover memories of a rude awakening are forgotten.

* * *

Hux's steps bring him all the way to the bridge, but his mind is currently elsewhere.

He had been inside his walking closet, dressing himself for the day with his mind wrapped in a hazy cloud of exhaustion due to lack of sleep when the noises had started. The water in the refresher went on, then off. Hux frowned. He hadn't heard the door open whatsoever, but he assumed it was Rey. With a shake of his head, he returned to pulling on his jacket, straightening out any potential wrinkles and buckling up his belt.

Then there it was again. The whoosh of a faucet going on, only to be shut off abruptly.

He tilted his head lightly, his ear twitching, and waited.

When nothing came, he let out a deep breath, his thoughts going back to how tired he was and the million things he had to get done that day.

Until yet again the water went on and off.

So hux did the one thing he shouldn't have done, which was to go investigate. Was something faulty? He'd have to file a report and have somebody come fix it, if so.

Except when he stepped in front of the door he'd met an entirely different view. The water goes on and off for the fourth time, and his lips threaten to twitch upward at the sight of the scavenger stripped to her small clothes, wetting the piece of fabric and then toweling herself off.

He should have walked away without a sound, then. He knew she would have never allowed this to happen with the door open had she known he was still in the room, but something yanks the unbidden words out of his mouth anyway.

"Pray tell, what exactly are you doing?"

The startled scream that came out of her as she sends her towel flying is so worth the interruption. Hux found that he really enjoys the look of horror on her face and loves gaining the upper hand with the woman even in something as silly as this.

But she was quickly assuming a battle stance, legs spreading out and knees bending, hands fisting in front of her, and Hux thought he might have just made a grave error. Her startled eyes look like that of a trapped deer for a few seconds, but a deer ready to fight. Not one to back down from such a thing, he took a step forward. Instinctively she forced herself back.

 _You're so strange, you little wild thing…_ he thought to himself.

Such an interesting wild thing.

"That's an interesting way to shower," he added. His mouth seemed to be working despite his brain telling him to stop, something so very out of character for him, but she'd stared at him with impossibly wide eyes, her lips parted slightly, and he could not resist himself, his curiosity a predatory thing.

Rey had said something about efficiency and it had taken him a handful of seconds to register what she's said, his mind too busy trying to deconstruct the puzzle that was this girl standing in front him. He'd given her some off hand remark until her words had finally sunk in and his eyes flew to the shower. Ever the quick thinker, his brain fit the pieces of her childhood on a desert planet in place with record speed. When he finally looked at her, he wondered with mounting horror how many small pleasures a single person could be deprived of.

He would not feel pity for her. That was beneath them both. But in this at least he would be a gentleman. So he'd told her as much.

"…one of the few pleasures of having access to a general's private refresher - one of the few pleasures of life, really - is also having access to a bath and a regular shower." He straightened, then, because that would be as far as he would allow it to go, and used the moment to remind both her and himself that she was here for very specific reasons. "You are not forbidden from using them while you remain my guest."

He turned to leave then, after she had offered him the tiniest of nods, except what happened next just basically unraveled every notion Hux held of what was appropriate when it came to Rey of Jakku.

She had stopped him and asked for help.

And just like that, Hux had found himself in _the_ most domestic situation of his life, explaining to a half naked woman in front of him how to use his shower.

He shakes his head, choosing instead to focus on the small moment that kept replaying in his mind over and over; that of Rey looking at his greatcoat.

There's something that holds a small thrill in it for him.

It was the look that he had found on her face when her gaze had landed on his greatcoat, hard to miss when that gaze swept over his rank bars. A small combination of awe and curiosity. He knew he had allowed the moment to stroke his ego for a second too long, but she was so very _interesting_ to him - her mannerisms, her infallible sense of duty to something greater than herself, the streak of wildness that coursed through her like the deadly undercurrents of a river flowing below an otherwise calm surface, the power she held, raw and unexplored. Even he, a man with no power in the Force, could feel it when she was pushed too far. It would come crashing over him, a force to be reckoned with. A small part of his mind wondered what great things she could accomplish for the First Order if only she allowed herself to be swayed. That small, nearly imperceptible hint of awe in her gaze when she had looked at his greatcoat keeps dragging him back like a magnet. Perhaps…

Hux thrums his fingers on the railing, deep in thought.

Perhaps she could be swayed to see things his way, after all. She _had_ been the one to ask him to explain, to tell her more. Hux allows himself a small smile at the memory of her flustered form rushing through her request the night before. But if she was clever, so was he. He knew, in all reality, that her only objective in offering that olive branch would be to gain information she could leak to the Resistance. Except when a door opens, one can walk through it both ways, and Hux is nothing if not a man who thrives under a challenge.

It would certainly make his life easier, if so, to have one less enemy to worry about. Especially one with the potential to wield so much power, currently sitting so close to home. Snoke had looked nothing but deliriously happy at this new arrangement of his, so it would do no harm to proceed, at least until she proved to be a danger. If that time came, he would defer to Snoke's guidance. But maybe this could prove a good way to return to the Supreme Leader's good graces.

Just as he's turning this idea over in his mind, an officer turns around on her seat and looks up at Hux, bringing his attention back down to the bridge.

"Sir," she announces over the hustle and bustle of all other crew, "A message has been sent for your immediate review."

Hux looks at Lt. Savoy standing ramrod straight in her perfectly tailored uniform, head tilted to look at his face, and Hux nods.

He watches as she turns around, hits a few buttons on a holopad, and the comm at his wrist beeps to life.

Accepting the message, a hologram of an intelligence agent blinks to life in front of him, snapping a salute.

"General," the man says. He looks scruffy, beard long and full over his thin lips, hair wild, as if it hasn't seen gel or hair product in months, and Hux narrows his eyes. Had the man been aboard his ship rather than off spying for him, he would have been forced to shave himself, get a haircut, and make himself presentable.

"Go on," Hux says.

"Sir, I have intercepted a message detailing plans newly implemented by the Resistance, sir." The man says, "I will be sending them directly to you via an untraceable line."

Hux nods as the man busies himself and soon enough a second message is beeping into his ears. The hologram of the man's head continues.

"Plans are a-go two days from now at nine-hundred hours, sir."

"Thank you," Hux offers, and the man positively preens. He snaps off another salute and Hux lets the line go dead, immediately pulling up the second message within which pages upon pages detail long, well thought out plans by the rebel scum. Hux's eyebrows climb up slowly the more he reads, and suddenly, he finds the door he needed to open glaring right back at him from a ghostly blue screen. He didn't think he'd find it so very soon. His lips twitch up slowly.

Hux is nothing if not a man who thrives under a challenge.

* * *

His footsteps fall silent as he enters his room that night, careful this time not to shed any layers of clothing except for his greatcoat, which he goes to his room to hang in its usual place. He ignores the girl sitting on the couch playing with Millicent until he's back facing his bedroom door. Slowly, he leans against the door frame and watches the back of her head as she toys with the tabby. She refuses to acknowledge his presence, he thinks with wry amusement, and instead dangles her fingers just out of reach of Millicent's sharp little claws, wiggling them and teasing the little creature.

Her hair is down, for once, hanging in damp waves.

"I hope the shower was to your satisfaction?"

Rey's head snaps up, turning by degrees until she's locked eyes with his own. From where he stands, she has to tilt her chin back in order to look at him, her nose held in the air aristocratically as she tries to stare him down. A blanket of curiosity settles over Hux's shoulders. She was just so intriguing like this.

"Yes, thank you."

"I don't know how much time long hair takes to dry, but if you need something to help dry your hair faster I can—" he starts, and suddenly she's blushing so furiously that his words die in his mouth. Millicent's finally gotten what she wanted and pounces at Rey's hand, biting and clawing as hard as the little cat can manage, causing Rey to flinch, but the brunette does not move.

"I- No!" she nearly shouts, words rushed, before she catches herself and takes in a deep breath. "No, no, it's fine."

Hux remembers very similar words spilling out of her the night before and wonders if this will become a daily ritual; him offering any small thing and her quickly stumbling upon her own toes to try and turn the offer down. But then she continues and he fights the urge to smile.

"I took another shower," she mumbles, Hux straining his hearing to catch the words, but they reach him nonetheless.

"A couple of them, in fact."

Then she's straightening and looking at him in the eye once more. "I hope you do not mind."

Hux schools his expression and shakes his head lightly.

 _Curious_ , interesting _little wild thing_.

"I am glad you've accepted my offer," he says, then pries himself from the door frame and starts walking towards the kitchen, undoing his jacket and exposing his undershirt, relaxing minimally at the added wiggle room to move.

His hand reaches for the data pad, about to order his usual meal, when he hesitates and curls his fingers into his palm. He turns to look at her.

"Is there something you'd prefer to eat?" he asks. Rey looks at him and her eyes widen a fraction.

"Anything is fine," she answers after a beat too long, "I don't mind."

Hux is too busy thinking of what he must do after their meal to linger on this and orders the same dish they'd had last night, then pours himself a small amount of wine and settles on the chair opposite her to wait. They sit in semi-comfortable silence, Rey busy with Millicent and Hux busy with his plans, untouched wine swirling in his glass for the hundredth time.

Then the food is served as quickly as the previous night and Hux rises, extending his hand to her without putting much thought into the gesture, his mind wrapped in the machinations of much larger things to come.

Rey looks at his proffered hand for a long time before looking up at his eyes and standing up. The motion puts her inches away from his chest and Hux finds himself rising to his full height and letting his hand drop. This is far too close for comfort. She's staring straight at his chest and his boot-assisted height places her right under his chin, where she'd fit like a puzzle piece. He steps back, chasing away that thought with wildfire, before turning and sitting himself at the head of the table to the right, his usual sitting time they actually go through their meal in blessed silence.

Every once in a while Hux catches Rey lifting her eyes to him, watching his hands and his motions, and then slowly imitating them. The levels of amusement in his brain are sky high at this. It's so small and insignificant, but it only proves something to him about the woman sitting on the other side of his table: she's a quick learner, and by the Maker if she wasn't eager to learn. So he took his time eating, showing her without verbal instruction how to properly hold the fork and knife, where to cut and how to do it without the knife grating on the plate, how to scoop up the grains onto the fork with the flat side of the knife so that they would not fall, how to bring small pieces of food into her mouth without flashing all of her teeth and half chewed food in her mouth. By the end of their meal, she is eating a little bit more like a normal human being and less like an unmannered troll, something he delights in.

Hux sits back and continues twirling his wine around his glass. He hasn't touched it, but the motion somehow soothes him until he's nearly meditating. He comms for attendants to return and clear the table, and when that's done and they're gone, he sets his mind to the task of how to approach this conversation. Rey is easy to spook, he's aware, and leading in with the wrong words would only start another fight he honestly could do without. He had no interest in fighting a teenager.

"If I asked you to join me in my office, would you?" he asks, posing the option for her, allowing her to turn it down. With her, he thinks, it's all about _choices_.

"Why?" Rey's eyes had not left his in minutes, locked with him in some strange battle of wills.

But she tilts her head. He'd piqued her interest.

"I have something to show you."

"What?" she demands.

"If I remember correctly, you asked me to tell you more about the order… about what I do," He sets the bait.

"I could do better than tell you," he dangles it in front of her face.

"I could _show_ you," he mutters in a conspiratorial voice and Rey's eyes drill into him.

He'd hooked her.

"Okay," is all she says, standing before Hux even tries to. She is _so very eager_. Hux delighted in that, following her lead as he watches her forget her position as _guest_ and basically barge into his office, Hux following quietly behind. He closes the door behind him lightly, watching her look around the room and take in the neat shelves, the small, modern silver accents displayed on them, the long wooden desk, and then finally the chair in front of it. She turns to him and he inclines his head, prompting Rey to take her seat. He walks slowly around to take his own, carefully gauging her mood as she continues to look around.

Ever since Kylo Ren decided to so irreverently force Rey into his care, Hux has been walking around wearing silken kid gloves. Even in those moments when he had regrettably lost his composure, he admitted to himself those silk gloves had not come off. This time he was playing with a flame with his bare fingertips; he knew it could very easily get out of control and burn him. She could easily exploit the gamble he was about to take, but Hux likes to think he is a man with excellent intuition. And so he decides to place his faith in that intuition, slowly activating the holopad in front of his desk. A blue screen comes to life and he whisks it to the side with the palm of his hand, allowing him to keep an eye on Rey's reaction at all times.

"Now," he turns, "I have one request of you before we begin. Indulge me, please. Why do you want to learn more about an organization you abhor?"

Rey looks at him and her eyes narrow lightly, but says nothing.

Hux simply prompts, "One small gift for another, Rey. I can show you so very much, but first, you must trust me. Otherwise, we can act like this never happened and return to the living room."

Rey wouldn't trust him in a light year, this he knows, but Hux carefully weaves the words into place and waits for her response. The small trust she'd need to give in order to answer such an innocent question is all he needs to cultivate it further.

The minutes stretch on and Hux waits for her to jump to her feet and walk out, but then Rey tilts her chin up, defiantly, and glares at him as she speaks through gritted teeth.

"I want to understand," she clips.

"Understand what, exactly?" he murmurs, gently pressing her.

Rey's silence stretches on and he watches as her face, so easy to read, betrays her inner thoughts.

He can read it as easily as if they were words on a page, her eyes flying back and forth between two imagined spots in the air, looking for reasons she's not sure she's ever considered before.

"I want to understand why you make the decisions you do, why you've made the ones you've made, why there's a First Order to begin with. I want to know what you think this…all of…" she swings her arms around in the air and he knows she means more than the comfortable office they're in, "why all of _this_ matters."

Hux examines her face, her knuckles turning white as she grips her fingers tightly then nods, having spoken her peace.

"Thank you, Rey," he says and Rey's face seems to drain some of her anxiety, thankful to not be asked any further questions.

He leans back on his chair and rests his hands on his lap, leg crossed one over the other, much more like a kind, patient teacher than an emperor at his leisure this time.

"I cannot have you understand why I make the decisions I make unless you're there when I make them," he starts, and Rey immediately frowns.

"So I will allow you to be here when I make one. Right now."

Rey's eyes widen, and Hux continues.

"There will be an attack on one of my bases in less than two days." He starts, and Rey's brows furrow.

"What?" she asks.

"Intelligence has informed me that one of my supply bases on an off planet will be attacked in two days," he repeats, calmly, and brings up the recording of his previous conversation, replaying it for Rey. She frowns the whole way through, lids sliding together into a glare until she's nearly squinting.

"How do you know this?" she asks, suddenly. "How did he find that out?"

Hux examines her once more. _So moral…_

"He's a spy, Rey," Hux offers as an answer. It's the only answer there is to give.

Rey obviously does not appreciate it.

"A spy?! You're _spying_? How is that even remotely fair? I thought you were all about doing things the right way, that the Resistance did everything the wrong way! Something about order and such nonsense."

Hux's eyebrow rises a hair.

"Spies are a reality and a necessity of war, Rey. We are not the only ones who spy. We're simply better at finding them within our ranks than they are at finding ours."

Rey gawks at him.

"You've found Resistance spies?"

He nods.

"What happened to them?" she demands, suddenly defensive.

"They were executed." He answers, then holds up his hand when she looks ready to balk at this, "I can assure you they would execute ours if they were to find them."

"No they would not!" she huffs, obviously affronted by it. For the hundredth time he wonders how the Resistance could so very easily indoctrinate her in a matter of hours. She knows so little and yet believes so much. "They would hold a trial! A fair, public trial!"

Hux smiles.

"And _then_ they would be executed."

Rey falls silent. She knows he speaks truth.

"Ok, fine," she changes tactics immediately, and Hux has to give it to her, she accepts defeat well, but refuses to give up the fight. "So they blow up a base somewhere with nothing but crates of food and weapons. So what?"

At this, he tilts his head. Does she really know so little?

"The base is not empty, Rey. This planet is inhabited. By the First Order, yes, but also by people who have chosen to make their livelihood there, who have made homes and started families."

"But the resistance would never hurt those people," Rey counters.

Hux knows he has her in his grasp now, and takes the time to give her a life lesson he hopes she'll never forget about.

He silently pulls up the documents he had received that morning and lifts his hand to prompt her to read them.

Then he sits back and watches. He nearly forgets to blink, careful not to miss a single twitch of her brow or narrowing of her bright hazel eyes, or the small downturn her lips take as she gets to page three.

She speaks to herself, but Hux notes the disbelief in her words.

"They're carpet bombing."

Hux says nothing. Rey keeps reading.

He watches as she gets to the transcript of the orders. Her eyes slowly take in a conversation that must have taken place in D'Qar - he was almost certain this was the home of the Resistance. His spies could not confirm, and he knew that the Resistance must have sniffed them out, but perhaps tonight he would have confirmation - and he watches as Rey's line of sight lands on two single, damming words. They tumble out of her in a whisper.

 _Collateral Damage._

Her head turns to him robotically, fingers fisted in her lap, shoulders tense, a vein in her neck straining.

"What do they mean by collateral damage?" she asks.

At this, Hux rises and walks around the desk. He pulls a second chair up to her side and plops himself into it, pulling his sleeves up his wrists, the very picture of an exhausted man. That picture is not far off the mark.

He leans on his knees so that his face is brought closer to her, lower than her eyesight, and she looks down into his eyes while her chest remains unmoving. She's holding her breath and she does not even know it.

Finally, he lets out a strained, tired sigh. He's tired, but the gesture is simply for her benefit.

"There are twenty thousand people in the immediate surroundings of and inside that base. The resistance plans to carpet bomb the area." He lets those words sink in, "it is a high risk operation for the Resistance, as this base is heavily guarded and an important depot for us between systems, blowing it up would set us back months…. So, General Organa has agreed to deal the blow and accept collateral damage as part of the operation."

Rey's lips tighten until they're nearly invisible.

"Twenty thousand people _are_ the collateral damage, Rey."

It takes a moment for it to register. The damning evidence in front of her has the power to convince her of what his words the previous night could not. Nobody's innocent in war. There were no real sides, no black and white delineations, no good and evil. Just war, and power, and the actions of those who mean to make a grab for it.

The fight bleeds out of her.

She slumps back in her chair, eyes clouding over. Rey refuses to look at him again when her words come.

"But how? How could they do this? They're not evil people, they're not like—" she cuts herself off abruptly, but it doesn't take a genius to know who she was referring to. Hux, set on seeing her through this, ignores the insult left unsaid.

"They do what they have to do," he prefaces with, hating himself for even uttering such a thing, but it feels as though she needs it. Still, he refuses to be painted as the monster here, "Just as we do."

Rey looks at him, then, through glossy eyes and a stern lip set in a down curl.

We.

"Your decision," she prompts, "you said you had a decision to make."

Hux nods. He'd already made a decision. He'd made several, in fact, and ten contingency plans per each decision he made should the one chosen fail. Just in case. And his decision had been to let her decide.

"We do," he says, casually rolling the implied alliance off his tongue. "What do you think should happen, Rey?"

"I —… they should…" she fights with herself. She hesitates, fingers turning pale the tighter she digs into her own skin.

"We should stop them," he supplies, once again making sure she hears the we in there. She refuses to meet his eyes, her frown deep and her eyes angry.

He leans forward, then, his eyes searching hers.

"Well then, I will need your help."

At this, her eyes fly to his face, and he smiles internally.

"A small gift for a small gift," she whispers, and Hux nods. She _is_ clever, after all. Very clever.

"I cannot stop resistance fighters from flying into the planet and carpet bombing, but I will initiate evacuation of the base and its immediate surroundings, and I will try to endanger as few lives as humanly possible, civilians and troops alike." He says, and Rey is hanging on his every word. "But we will fire on the pilots and bring _every_ single ship down. We will attack with everything we have. It will potentially escalate."

Rey's breath is coming in shallow pants.

"Or..?" she asks, dangling the question for him to pluck.

He was playing with so much fire right now.

"Or you can give me the location of the resistance base. I will start evacuation and remove all personnel and civilians, the rebels will fly in and destroy our base, civilian homes will be destroyed, and not a single weapon from our side will be fired. They will fly home. We will plan an attack on their base and I will avert my eyes as you run to inform them. I will even provide you with the means to do so. They will evacuate, we will destroy their base. And at the end of the day nothing is lost except for some buildings turned to rubble."

"Why are you doing this to me?" she finally whispers, pained. And a small part of Hux pities the fact that he must.

"These are the decisions I must make," he says, "A decision would have been made without you, one probably ending in bloodshed; but now you have a chance to save lives at your disposal."

Rey struggles, a fierce battle as she debates which of her choices costs more; a rebel base and betraying her convictions, or the lives of the people she considered friends.

"You can say nothing," he says, giving her a way out, "do nothing, and when this all happens in two days' time, I will not bring it up. Our little war will go on in its own merry way. I will not fault you."

Her breaths come in short pants, quick and quiet, and her eyes swing wildly from side to side as she looks at the floor, hoping it would offer her an answer.

The seconds tick by.

With the finality of a hammer falling to an anvil, Rey gives him all the ammunition he needs.

"D'Qar. The base is in D'Qar."

She looks at him, then, a spark hissing to life in her mind.

"And what do you gain? What do you gain, then? If they destroy your base and you destroy theirs, and no one dies, what do you gain?"

Hux smiles.

Clever girl.

No, she was not a fool.

He extends his hands, palm up, as if a supplicant for her understanding.

"Time," he answers. "Time to rebuild, and we go back to war as usual."

She looks at him then, realizing the implication: nobody wins, but nobody loses, either.

Hux's next words are left unsaid, but he means them just as much.

He gains time.

 _And, perhaps,_ with _time_ , _a powerful ally._

It would be a gamble he'd have to take.

* * *

Notes: Hello, all! thanks for all the follows and favorites and to blackwolfmajik for this fic's first comment!

Chapter Playlist:  
The Switch and the Spur - The raconteurs  
These Stones will Shout - The raconteurs


	6. A Rude Awakening

Rey stares at the high ceilings of the living room, blankets drawn up to her chin, the kitten plopped on her stomach snoozing away happily. She's cold despite the room's comfortable temperature, so unlike the holding cells several levels below. Rey looks at the light fixtures, knowing she'd never be able to reach them to pull off the same stunt she had in her prison, and curses herself for not knowing enough of the Force to do some of the things she had seen Kylo Ren do.

Like pull an entire ship close to his command shuttle and hold it in place against all the push and fuel she had given the engines of the Millennium Falcon in her vain attempts to escape.

Rey's lips draw over her teeth in a silent snarl, but she's snarling into the dark, empty nothingness, and that won't do her any good. She sighs instead, shifting. The kitten purrs softly at the movement.

If she knew how to use the Force she'd be able to escape. She wouldn't have to count on a bout of luck like she had on Starkiller base, or even in her last two escapes. She'd be able to escape General Hux and get the hell out of this place.

She had known it was the Force when her engines stopped responding, whirring but never advancing. She had known it was the Force when her shields had been disabled by a seemingly invisible hand. She had known it was the Force when the Falcon had rattled as an unwelcome ship connected with hers, when her ramp had lowered without her permission.

She'd been the only person aboard the Millennium Falcon then; Chewie and R2-D2 had stayed behind with Luke, promising to meet her in D'Qar. Chewie had wanted to spend time with his old friend now that Han was dead, and Rey could not deny the wookie his solace when he so desperately needed to grieve his partner in crime. Ahch-To would be the perfect place to do so. Tranquil and beautiful, and blessedly remote.

Her exit from the planet had been dashed along with her plans when a dark, looming figure had clomped up her ramp, ready to cut her down. She had fought with everything she possessed, and still flinched at how much damage she knew both of them had imparted to the inside of the ship while fighting tooth and nail. Luck had not been on her side. She'd been captured in part because she did not understand the Force as he did, and Rey hated her captors, she hated this ship, she hated every single one of the soldiers aboard it. She just wanted freedom. She wanted to return to the resistance, to her friends, to a place where she had found that she could finally belong. A place where people fought for what's right.

 _Except…_

It keeps buzzing in her head. She buries the thought but it continued to resurface in the night, floating above the hum in her mind.

Rey had finally received a taste of what she had wanted. She had been granted information, and it sits in the pit of her stomach like a brick.

 _Collateral damage._

Collateral damage, they'd called it. Twenty thousand lives, cosigned to a number on a page for the sake of progress in a war nobody seemed to be winning. _A sacrifice that must be made,_ the missive had said. A part of Rey wanted to believe that it was for the best, that these people were monsters and murderers and they deserved everything that came to them. But the other part of her brain insisted that the majority of those twenty thousand souls were people like her, civilians caught in the whirlwind of a galactic war far bigger than anything they could comprehend. And even if they were monsters and murderers, even if she willed herself through excuses to reconcile the concept of death in exchange for power in her mind, the part of her that was attuned to the Force could never do the same. Because inside of her she felt those lives.

She had lived on a desert planet, her powers dormant, and all she had known was silence. Then she had touched Luke's lightsaber and it had been as though a dam had burst, letting in all the light in the universe, and she had _felt_ more than known that there were millions, billions of lives around her in the galaxy, perhaps even more. She could feel it now, where she was surrounded by thousands of them on this ship. The Force would not allow her to discount the thousands of beating pulses and pinpricks of life inside her mind. She knew without a doubt that if they were to suddenly die, she would feel each and every one. Suddenly, it wasn't so black and white.

The last damning nail to the coffin had been Leia Organa's signature. She felt a pang of pain in her chest. It felt very nearly like betrayal. True, she didn't _really_ know the woman; had only known her for a few hours. She didn't know the woman that had held herself with such grace, a grounding force for those around her…except that Rey had hugged her and felt nothing but love and concern, and she had grieved with her as General Organa had resigned herself to the death of her husband, to the betrayal of her child, to the loss of her family. Rey had squeezed the woman's hands as she had said her goodbyes, promising to return with General Organa's twin. She had failed at that.

 _Would Leia know I've gone missing?_ Rey muses. She hadn't even had time to send a distress signal for Leia to intercept before her capture. She had failed at that, too.

Rey did not believe General Organa was evil. Could not force herself to believe that.

She turns on her couch and the nameless kitten, her only true companion here, simply adjusts to curl itself in the crook of Rey's knees. Rey's head tilts back and her eyes fall on the door leading to the bedroom.

No, Rey could not force herself to believe that General Organa was evil. So what did that make the man behind the closed doors?

He had given her a choice hours before inside his office.

Rey knows she had been used for information. She knows it as well as she knows her heartbeat; she is many things but a fool isn't not one of them. Yet Rey had given the information up because she had also been given a choice to save lives. She does not want to think of what other decisions would have been made had he not deferred to her judgement. How many resistance pilots would have died? How many stormtroopers forced to stay behind in order to fire their weapons? How many people on both sides of the fight? People without choices. Because, Rey reminded herself, whether they wore pilot helmets with resistance insignia or stormtrooper armor, they were people nonetheless, pawns in a galactic game of chess, there to be sacrificed for the goals of kings and queens. General Hux would have done what needed to be done, and more people would have died. She thinks of Finn, telling her with deep, soulful eyes, that he had escaped because he refused to kill. That he had been a child taken from a home he had never known. How many more were like Finn? The stormtroopers would have no choice but to fire… but up until this moment, she had not considered that the resistance pilots would have had no choice in the matter either. As it stands, had she stayed with the resistance, would she have a choice? She wants to believe that she would.

Rey pulls her eyes away from the closed door and settles back on her pillow, sighing at the headache sparking behind her eyes. She closes them, evening out her breaths. Her mind wanders back to Finn, to Poe, to BB-8 and Chewie. If she has to fight for a side, Rey thinks, she'll fight for the side where her friends are. They're as close to family as she'll ever have. Her chest constricts at the thought, and in that second of pain something stops her short. A soft hum, a glow in the back of her awareness that intensifies. Rey frowns.

She tries to focus.

She's had that feeling in her mind for weeks now. That golden Light, floating in the back of her awareness. Humming softly. She had ignored it, assumed it as her due for being part of the Force now, and concentrated on more important tasks like surviving. Escaping Starkiller base, finding Luke and gaining a teacher — the memory of Luke's immensely sad, wise gaze still hurts to think about — escaping the Finalizer alive. Fighting Kylo Ren and General Hux at every opportunity.

With such important things to worry about, she had basically ignored that hum and decided to deal with it some other time. She thinks back to her rude awakening that morning and is almost certain this Light caused it. The heat and the pain had been the same as they are now, but now it thrums with every emotion of hers, as if in answer. When she is calm, it lies quiet. When she's agitated, it glows with heat. When she hurts, it hurts. Is the Force supposed to do that?

She knows that she knows so little. It makes her angry.

The glowing ball of Light pulses with her distress.

She approaches it, tentatively, her breath hitching at the heat it spreads through her, down every vein, in every bone.

Her breathing quickens the hotter her senses become, until she feels drawn to this floating presence in her mind, unable to help herself.

Rey pinches her eyes closed tight as she concentrates on it, gauges its size within her, gingerly floats around it and inspects it. Would the Force be like this in her mind forever? Would she always feel consumed by fire?

She reaches towards it and —

Kylo Ren sits up with a jerk. A _very painful_ jerk. He had been meditating, trying to calm himself because ever since he had touched that ball of energy in his mind, all he could feel were waves of emotions that did not belong inside of him. One moment he'd feel happy for absolutely no reason, the next, waves of rage would consume him - and any other time he would have welcomed the rage - but not when it came quickly followed by numbness, sadness, anxiety, resignation, and anger once more. It was a rollercoaster in which he was an unwilling passenger. He had raged in his own way, then, throwing and destroying everything within his reach until all that was left untouched in his room was his grandfather's helmet, still carefully resting inside its crystal box.

Had this been what he had signed up for when he brushed his awareness against that ball of light? A lifetime of feeling all the things he had worked so hard to stamp out of him? Had Ben Solo come back from his eternal grave to haunt him? When it had become too much, he had sunk into the destroyed mattress in a sitting position and set to meditate, determined to stomp out any feeling and shove Ben Solo back into his cage.

Except this time his heart aches and he watches with horror as the ball of Light inside his mind unspools, stretches, shines brightly enough to blind him. The hum turns into a single, soulful note, light and airy and so ridiculously high that he cringes. It unravels fast, faster, and then —

— And then it's latching onto him. Kylo Ren scrambles to shove up his mental defenses, protecting what is solely his against whatever this thing is, but the light is too quick and it cuts through his useless attempts, clinging onto his very essence and —

A flash of a face appears in his mind. Bright eyes and dark hair, freckled face and a soft mouth parted in what might have been a gasp or a scream, he doesn't know, and he feels soft blankets that he knows do not belong in the wretch of the room he's in, and hears a soft purr of no animal he can see.

His eyes fly open.

The rope of light that anchors to him sings. It glows, brighter and brighter, and tethers itself to his soul with a strength that's difficult for his mind to comprehend. And then, slowly, gently, a second awareness buds within his mind, an awareness that is not his, and—

And it's the scavenger. He knows it like he knows his own name. He senses that the rope that had latched onto him has done the same for her because suddenly emotions that are not his beat into his mind like the winds of a hurricane. Out of sheer panic, something that is so unfamiliar to Kylo Ren, he throws up his walls and blocks everything that is him until he's safe within the cocoon he's built for himself, until there's only a dampened echo left behind of that storm of emotions that had assaulted his thoughts.

Kylo scrambles out of his cot and takes two purposeful strides towards his grandfather's helmet, longing to anchor himself in something familiar, longing to return to his strength. Then the room is shifting under him, darkness enveloping every corner, and Kylo Ren lowers his eyes, barely refraining from sighing.

He grabs for the lightsaber hitched under his robes as twenty five men - Kylo counts quickly - surround him, guarded and armed, and Kylo knows it is time to begin all over again.

He ignites his saber and prepares himself to dance.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Hello, everyone! I finally figured out how to update things here in a bit of an easier manner, so I'm back (a year later lol sorry!). There are roughly 34 more chapters written of this story, which I'll be updating weekly now for you guys. Thank you to all who left messages in my absence. They are highly appreciated.


	7. Rehabilitation

The morning of the attack on the First Order's supply base comes just as all other mornings do, the irony not lost on Hux as he shrugs his greatcoat over his shoulders - how the universe keeps going, unchanging and uncaring of the machinations of men.

The sound of water rushing from the shower heads in his bathroom bring his mind to Rey, who had surely snuck into the refresher while he changed in his walk-in closet much like she had three days ago. He shakes his head. Has it already been three days? Over a week since Ren had so unceremoniously dumped her in his care…

Under his _supervision_ , he corrects with a purse of his lips as quickly as the thought crosses his mind.

Soon it would be half a moon cycle and here they stood at an impasse. After that meeting in his office Hux had seen very little of her. Oh, he had _seen_ her, sure, but he hadn't seen _her_. Not a trace of her fiery spirit. He had received no snarky remarks, no huffed responses, no angry glares. They had sat in silence to dine the following night and Rey, usually quick to inhale her meal, had only pushed her vegetables around. Hux wondered if he should worry, but then again, her problems were not his. He would not allow himself to get entangled in them. Still, he needed her attention on him today, if only so he could accomplish what needed to be accomplished.

He finishes dressing himself, brushing his clothes one last time before stepping quietly into the common room. He takes a seat on his usual high chair, legs crossed, and drums his fingers on his knee while he settles himself to wait.

Rey comes out of his bedroom not much longer after, that thought making his left eye twitch, and Hux motions to her usual seat opposite him (another troubling thought, that). She stiffens under his gaze, so he waits, face impassive, patient. When finally there is nothing for her to do but obey, she carefully sets herself to doing her hair up in her usual three-bunned style. He finds himself unable to avert his gaze as she runs her fingers through her damp hair and entirely disregards him. Millicent jumps on her lap, having made herself a permanent fixation in the personal space of the girl in front of him. It's another one of those uncomfortable domestic scenarios that he had been trying so hard to avoid. He schools himself to disinterest once she concludes her task and peers up at him.

"I am surprised to see you here, General," she greets in a monotone, "I thought perhaps you had more important things to do."

Hux drums his fingers on his knee again and her eyes fly to it. He does it on purpose, this time; distracting her simply because he knows he can. Power. There is only power and those who wield it. In that moment, he exerts an infinitesimal amount of it over her, and this little game is just so _entertaining_ to him.

Then he stops and her eyes fly back to his face.

 _Like clockwork,_ he muses.

He doesn't think she even realizes that she's doing it. If this is her response to a simple, consistent beat, he wonders what her response to music would be like. He quickly brings his attention back to the task at hand. No, he would not allow himself the distraction. Not now.

"I do have important things to attend to," he speaks, finally, and Rey watches him like a hawk. "As it stands, I thought perhaps you would join me."

Rey stiffens visibly, and Hux gets the distinctive impression that she knows exactly why.

He's proven right about her once more when she juts her chin out and speaks with a challenge in her eyes.

"You will keep your promise?" she demands.

Hux leans back, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair.

"My dear, I promised you nothing," he begins, and the fire he had missed for two days comes roaring back, "I swore no oath to you, little scavenger. But you kept your word and gave me the information I needed, so I will keep mine."

Rey positively bristles. More so at the endearment, at being called _little_ ; at the reminder that she is a scavenger and so below him.

He stands and starts strolling towards the main door then, his next command issued without turning to look at her.

"Come."

He waits for a second without slowing his step, rewarded once more when he hears the quick shuffling of her feet. The look on her face when she reaches his side is that of excitement to finally be out of her confines, and Hux narrows his eyes in her general direction.

"I believe I need not remind you what happens should you try to escape."

Rey turns her nose up at him but says nothing, and he notes with a flicker of surprise that she makes no move to run. When he's certain she won't, he turns on his heel and walks off, Rey falling in behind him.

He has little time to wonder at this new development, however, when Captain Phasma reaches him at a clip, snapping off a clean salute and falling in beside him. To the captain's credit, she does not hesitate nor does she stop to look at the brunette girl following behind him, taking a step and a half for every one of his.

"Sir," comes the modulated voice behind the helmet, "The officers have assembled in the situation room," she says. "We only await your command."

Hux nods, continuing his long stride until they arrive at the command quarters minutes later, entering the situation room with fifteen minutes to spare. The clock ticks closer to nine hundred hours.

All the officers in the room stand as one when Hux enters the room with Phasma, Rey in tow. He takes his seat at the head of the table, Phasma assuming her place at his right hand behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Rey hesitate, unsure of where to stand, before stiffly setting herself behind his chair to his left. If the petty officers and commanders sitting in the room are bothered by her presence, nobody shows any inkling of it. Not even a lingering look.

"General," Lieutenant Savoy speaks, her voice crisp and her eyes sharp. "Ten minutes until the strike."

Every eye in the room turns to him, then. He feels the pressure of Rey's drilling into the back of his head.

"Bring up the image," he orders, and immediately four different giant screens project in the middle of the room, over their oval table; every single person has a view of what's happening. There's a soft gasp behind him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the screens.

"Report, Lieutenant."

Savoy's turns towards him, leaning toward in her chair to catch his eye over the screens.

"Sir, all troops have been evacuated. The perimeter of the base has been cleared in a radius of two hundred miles, all civilians along with relief units, just to be sure."

Hux nods then, drumming his fingers on the table. The screens flicker and he watches from four different angles as cloaked First Order ships provide video of Resistance X-wings entering atmosphere. The room falls quiet except for the drumming of his fingers. To his side, just at the edge of his peripheral vision, Rey shuffles her weight.

"Sir, five minutes to impact."

The countdown is given to him by another officer standing in the room until all video feeds project image of their soon to be rubble of a base as hidden camera rooms along the mountain range return their feedback to the Finalizer.

"Three minutes to impact." The short, dark haired petty officer announces.

Lieutenant Mikata speaks for the first time since Hux entered the room, "Sir, it would take just as long for our ships to hit atmo. If we are to attack, we need word now."

"Two minutes."

Hux continues his thrumming, and every eye turns to him. His own, however, are locked on the sight of X-wings zooming toward his base. The shuffling behind him stops. He can almost sense Rey holding her breath.

"One minute to impact." Comes from the petty officer.

"Sir, we need word now." Comes from Mikata.

Hux stops his fingers and gives a single shake of his head.

He knows his officers are stunned that he's actually following through with the plan he had relayed to them the night before. But he had his word to keep. They would follow his orders, however ridiculous they were, however much letting the enemy destroy his supplies seemed like tactical suicide.

"Thirty seconds."

Hux purses his lips.

"Twenty."

He steels himself and all eyes turn towards the screens, long past the point of being able to retaliate with fire.

"Ten."

He hears short pants of breath from his left, quiet enough to only reach his ears.

"Brace for impact."

And then the screens are raining fire.

Missiles fall and X-Wing blaster weapons fire, and there's nothing but the thunderous sounds of destruction echoing against the dark walls of the room they sit in.

X-Wings zoom by like flies from where the cameras transmit, and it takes exactly two minutes for months' worth of Hux's work to be turned to nothing but flames and broken pieces. He watches as the fire takes not only his base but a perimeter of miles, burning down landing pads and hangars, the x-wing fighters flying high enough to avoid damage to their wings. Hux clamps his teeth together and waits. He reminds himself of the bigger picture, his ears straining to hear any noise from Rey.

The line that the First Order was able to intercept from the X-Wings comes with a hoot; some Resistance pilot already celebrating at his victory, shouting something about Imperial scum, unknowing that the First Order is listening in. Hux lets his eyes travel to Rey for a heartbeat where she's standing stonily. His eyes return to the carnage in front of him, and within another minute, the Resistance pilot is sending a positive to the command to exit.

Mikata speaks again, all professionalism after the destruction they all witnessed on the screen.

"General, Resistance pilots prepped for exit. Would you like us to fire upon them once they burn atmo?"

There's not a word whispered, not a single breath taken in the entirety of the room, but he knows as well as they that there will be no fire exchanged today.

Rey, however, is nearly hyperventilating by his side. Quietly, but still very much hyperventilating.

He lets the silence go for a few more seconds before—

"All troops, stand down."

* * *

Rey's breath had hitched itself in her throat and refuses to dislodge itself. Hux stands up from his chair and silently walks out of the situation room, leaving her and Phasma to chase after him. His heels click as he walks away and Rey can only keep throwing glances back to the situation room. The officers who had sat inside file out quietly, in eerily orderly fashion, before dispersing to do their jobs; some to places Rey could not guess, and a few falling in after Hux a fair distance behind, towards the bridge.

Rey's breath had hitched itself in her throat and refuses to dislodge itself. Hux stands up from his chair and silently walks out of the situation room, leaving her and Phasma to chase after him. His heels click as he walks away and Rey can only keep throwing glances back to the situation room. The officers who had sat inside file out quietly, in eerily orderly fashion, before dispersing to do their jobs; some to places Rey could not guess, and a few falling in after Hux a fair distance behind, towards the bridge.

Once on the bridge, Hux walks to the railing of the top level and stands quietly. Phasma departs, leaving them alone to watch as the crew work at their stations, switching controls, monitoring screens, and generally ignoring the two people hovering overhead, watching their every move.

They stand there, a powerful giant and a girl, because in this very moment, against everything that she is and everything that she believes in, she feels just like a girl without a clue. Rey tries to get oxygen in and out of her lungs. He'd had plenty of chances to fire. He'd had plenty of chances to break his word to her, and as she watched the fire and smoke blooming like a mushroom above the base on screen, he'd reminded her that this is what war looks like. That it was easy to discuss losses and numbers in the comfort of an office, but something else entirely to watch the destruction happen in real time. Rey's brain keeps thinking that had they not intercepted the missive, that destruction would have hailed down on twenty thousand unsuspecting heads. She cringes at that thought.

Hux says nothing, happy to leave her to her thoughts. Probably deep in his own, she thinks, as her head turns lightly and she watches him from the corner of her eye. His gaze is set on the expanse of black space in front of him, jaw clenched, regal nose held high in the air, a stern set to his lips. She follows his gaze to the open windows, watching the darkness engulfing them. She doesn't know what to say, either, so instead she looks over at the bridge and watches closely. She'll never get another chance like this to see how the command of the ship is run, and Rey immediately sets to stashing any bits she can in her mind for later use. They stay like this for a good twenty minutes until she's itching from standing in silence.

"So what happens now?" she asks.

Hux looks at her in silence for what feels like an eternity from under long, red lashes before returning to the view of open, dark space.

"Now we retaliate."

This is what Rey feared. The retaliation. Because it meant that she was the one person responsible for it all. She hated thinking about the damage she would inflict upon her own friends. Rey clenches her hands into fists and breathes in deeply, Hux impassive at her side, hands clasped behind him as if waiting patiently for something to happen.

And whatever happens next is truly up to her. She had saved Resistance lives by making a deal with the devil, she thinks, but then her mind goes back to the mushroom clouds of fire and destruction. Her anxiety flares.

She thinks of the trees of D'Qar, to the soft light, to the cool, damp air. To the tranquil beauty. Some of it would be destroyed because of her.

Then Hux turns on his heel and starts walking away, and she's forced to follow when even Captain Phasma turns her head to look at her standing there.

His steps echo around them, her own smaller ones rushing to catch up. They walk in silence and Rey uses the distraction to try and memorize the layout of the ship, but there are too many turns, and she loses track as they eventually reach his quarters. He quietly removes his gloves and reaches for the access pad, then steps aside to let her in, his eyes narrowing slightly when she hesitates.

If she steps in, she'll be back in her well furnished cage. Then she sends an icy glare his way and steps forward. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear she sees a degree of tension seep out from the squared set of his shoulders.

The general walks past her towards the table where they usually set themselves down to dine as the doors close. Rey watches him curiously, his self assured stride, the slant of his lips as he turns to face her, the way his usually fiery blue eyes gaze back at her dully, tired and hard.

He reaches into his greatcoat's inner pocket and pulls out a data pad, placing it on the table with a soft click, his gloved hands bringing it up to life. He takes a step back, then, and stares at her for a moment longer than is comfortable to Rey.

"This data pad has an untraceable connection open right this minute. Any message you send will be sent anonymously, and a copy is being transmitted to my personal comm the second you press send."

Rey frowns.

"Contact them, don't contact them, warn them or don't, it does not matter to me. Uncover your position aboard my ship and I will immediately see you in a torture cell. I do not plan on playing the games we've played until now. Should you bring danger to my ship, your options will be to wait for Kylo Ren to mete out his particular brand of justice, or for me to make it quick and put a bullet in your head."

A shard of fear lodges itself in her spine like lead. He is absolute ice. This is nothing like the man who had interrogated her, even with his cruel treatments prior to this. What she had thought of as cruelty then seems now like child play in comparison. This is certainly not the man who had shown her his own particular form of kindness, either, despite her being a prisoner. This is the true face of General Hux, all business and no nonsense. All cold, hard edges and military detachment.

He continues.

"I do not plan to interfere with your message. You kept your word, and so I am keeping mine. As long as my demands are met, you will continue comfortably in my quarters as my guest. Please do not try and test my limits today, Rey."

It is the way in which her name rolls off his tongue that brings her up short. Despite his tirade, when he says her name he sounds tired, and older than his years. It's the voice of a man unrecognizable to her, but also that of a man who just wants to get this over with. Thinking back to the situation room, she can understand that desire.

"A retaliation strike will take place against the rebel base on D'Qar in two days, at nine hundred hours."

He turns on his heel then and walks into his office, letting the door fall shut with a soft click.

So he'd only give them as long as they had given him. Rey knew that the Resistance would suspect of spies. Would hunt down the man who had leaked their attack on the First Order, and execute him, as General Hux had said. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

She also knew that the resistance would not be as gracious as Hux had been to withhold fire. Lives would be lost this time around.

But he had given her the choice, the option to try and save countless more, and so she very nearly runs to the data pad in her haste; she punches in the coordinates for messages to the resistance, and types as fast as her fingers can glide over the data pad.

"Attack on D'qar. Led by First Order. Two days from now, nine hundred hours. Evacuate immediately."

They would also assume that someone had leaked this information from the First Order. But the Resistance had to know who their spies were. Would they assume it was her, when it turned out to be no one they could account for? Or would they assume it is another Finn-like trooper?

She shakes her head then, remembering the warning Hux had so callously delivered. A bullet to the head or Kylo Ren's saber. In light of that, there wasn't much of a choice. She leaves the message unsigned and hits send.

Rey stands staring at the data pad numbly, hearing the beep coming from the other room as soon as she hits send and the message finishes transmitting. Hux's copy, she imagines.

Once that's done, the door opens again and Hux approaches the table, giving her one hard look before picking up the data pad and pocketing it once more.

"Thank you," she says, because she does not know what else to say in the face of what just happened.

His eyes settle on her like a blanket then, calm and considering.

"This changes nothing," she quickly adds, trying to regain what little ground she can.

He keeps looking at her. Then his head dips lightly and he's looking up at her through the most impossibly beautiful red lashes she's ever seen, suddenly looking amused though his expression barely shifts.

"Of course not," he agrees, and there's a vague hint of light humor there that Rey can't help but latch onto.

She fights the light upward twitch of her lip, because she doesn't know why she would even smile at such a thing, but suddenly the air feels just a little lighter, and she can't help herself. There's something, Rey admits, to two people deciding what the fate of thousands of lives can be, and it's a heady feeling. And perhaps it's the fact that Rey, a nobody from a backwater planet, helped save those thousands, that finds her giving him a smile nonetheless. Because it does change something.

It changes everything.

* * *

That evening, the ground shifts under Kylo's blood soaked cloak and boots as it had every night, except this time he lands not in his tiny room but on a platform overseeing a dais in a large, cavernous room. There is no light here except from a small pool of water at his feet. He stands alone. He frowns.

A figure glides out from the cloak of darkness and Kylo has just enough sense to immediately drop to one knee. He kneels there, tired and worn from the long day spent fighting and killing, and Kylo just wants to collapse onto his destroyed bed and sleep away forever, but now is not the time to think such thoughts. He calms his mind, as quiet as the pool of water in front of him. He had not seen the man since a vague hologram had instructed him to begin his training, disappeared, and left him in the darkness to begin the bloodletting that continued on for now nearly two weeks.

"Rise, young Knight."

Kylo Ren forces his tired legs to an upright position and finally met his Master's eyes. Those deep, dark, knowing eyes. The creature is not the size of his hologram. He is closer to just shy of a foot taller than Kylo Ren, but the way he carries himself, like he held all of the Force in his grasp, ready to unleash, lend him an otherworldly aura of danger that Kylo Ren is too familiar with.

"Have you learned your lesson, Kylo Ren, First of the Knights of Ren?" Snoke asks, only seemingly mildly interested in the answer.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," Kylo replies robotically.

"Liar," Snoke hisses, but there is no anger there, just resignation as though Snoke had expected this.

"You still feel, Kylo Ren," he continues, walking circles around Kylo, stroking his mind with what Kylo assumes is the creature's way of … of what? Trying to reassure him? It is the touch of an adult trying to calm down a child.

"I see you have secured the Jedi girl." Snoke changes the subject, leaving Kylo to catch up.

"How did you know, Supreme Leader?" he asks, his voice schooled to indifference. He had not offered his thoughts on the exchange and ultimate capture of the scavenger girl.

"I know _everything_ , boy." Snoke replies. "Tell me, is she as untrained as ever?"

Kylo Ren nods, then hesitates. "She is perhaps a little stronger, but not enough to defeat me, Master."

Snoke comes to stand in front of him and suddenly Kylo nearly lurches forward, feeling Snoke invade his thoughts with the force of a hammer, ramming through and wading his thoughts around until he finds the one specific memory he's looking for: Kylo Ren aboard the Millennium Falcon. Then that memory is followed by Kylo Ren bringing Rey aboard the Finalizer, literally kicking and screaming, hauled over his shoulder like so much baggage.

Snoke lets out a soft wheezy laugh then, not like the terrifying sound of his hologram. This laugh is much more human, far more frail, though Kylo knows there is anything but humanity in the creature before him.

"She's made of fire," the Supreme Leader says. "That could be useful to her, in time."

Then Snoke is changing directions again.

"General Hux has been a very gracious host to our little Jedi. He's even kept her in his own quarters," Snoke says with a hint of amusement and delight, changing subjects so quickly Kylo's mind whiplashes. Kylo freezes.

How could he know that? Was it true?

But Snoke had never lied to him, and thus Kylo assumed that the creature in front of him did indeed know.

"Yes, Master," is all there is left for him to say.

"I think perhaps now it is time to move forward with your training," Snoke replies, leaning forward to stroke Kylo's jaw, cupping his chin like he would a child.

"Was this not my training, Supreme Leader?" Kylo asks against his better judgement, perplexed. What had he spent doing for all these days while killing, if not? His brow furrows.

"Oh no, dear child." Snoke explains with a glee that turns Kylo's blood cold. "This was just rehabilitation."

"Master?" Kylo asks, dumbfounded. He hurries himself to school his expression and calm his mind, everything lying quiet under the unmoving surface, even that golden thread he had come to think of as a bond to the scavenger girl. Snoke must have not sensed it, or if he did, he had said nothing.

"I have decided to… _alter_ …the course of your training, Knight of Ren," Snoke says, stepping forward to cradle the back of Kylo's neck, stroking the hairs standing up at the nape. A hint of amusement paints itself over those torn lips, the jagged edges of missing flesh twitching and stretching over the feral grin Kylo is gifted with.

"The best way to learn is to _teach_ , boy." He finally says when Kylo makes no move to speak. "You are well enough along your training to take an apprentice of your own. So you will teach this girl, at whatever cost. What she learns of the Darkness will only help to reinforce your own knowledge. I trust you will do well?"

And then Kylo Ren is being frozen in place as Snoke turns circles around him lazily, examining with eyes that are too big for Kylo to comprehend, too shrewd, too all-knowing. Kylo is finally unfrozen.

"Yes, Master."

Snoke laughs then, and the sound sets Kylo's teeth on edge, but he bows his head to his master and stands there as the creature that has guided him for six years slowly retreats. Then the ground is shifting again under him, and he's left back in his room.

Kylo immediately walks towards his grandfather's helmet, removing the crystal top and holding the mask with trembling fingers.

"Grandfather," he implores, "I will need your guidance more than ever."

And Kylo sighs, almost a contented sigh, when he closes his eyes and he listens to what he believes are his grandfather's words, guiding him, anchoring him. This helmet, a dark artifact left behind by a most powerful man, still holds the essence of the man Kylo aspires to be. He had found it as a child training to be a jedi on temple grounds; Kylo Ren imagines that his uncle had kept it for the sake of sentimentality. He sneers. Sentimentality brought down the Jedi. But Kylo's grateful nonetheless to have found it, this reminder of what his true path can be, of who his true master is: Darth Vader.

The words come into his mind, then, and his fingers tighten on the helmet.

 _Turn her. Make her yours, and you will be stronger than you could ever imagine._

He sets his grandfather's helmet down with reverence, whispering soft words of gratitude, before turning around in his room.

It is time to return.

* * *

Hux brings the smoke he holds gingerly between his fingers to his lips, letting the water lap at his chest, head resting on a towel behind him, soaking up dampness from the mess of red curls. He looks at the ceiling and clings to the burn tickling his throat.

Beside him on a small stand rests his towel, an ashtray, and his personal comm. Finally done for the night and, without much to do in terms of work after his now usual dinner with Rey, he'd retreated to his room to bathe and, perhaps, try and catch a few hours of sleep. He doubted those precious winks of sleep would come, though. They rarely did, but at least he could try.

He lets out the smoke from his lungs, his head swimming in the burn of nicotine, his thoughts on a particular smile as he takes another long drag and repeats the process of holding it in.

He has to admit it to himself. He wants another one of those smiles. If only because, for a second, he had received something substantial as a reward for achieving his goal. Hux would not think about the quiet little voice in his head that gives him more reasons for wanting that smile; tonight it would be enough that he had succeeded.

Smoke leaks out from his nose slowly, floating in the air in a milky haze, and Hux sinks further into the hot water enveloping him. A hot bath was truly one of life's few pleasures.

Then his comm is beeping and he frowns, sitting up as water splashes around, dangerously close to spilling out of the tub. He grabs for the thing with irritated, pruney fingers, a frown burrowing between his brows, but the annoyance at being interrupted quickly dissipates when he reads the message.

"I am coming."

Signed, Kylo Ren.

Three words, and suddenly Hux isn't sure whether to be elated or displeased.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _ Thank you so much for reading, and to those who have favorited and followed this story! I'd love to hear from you in the comments what you think so far!


	8. Wolf & Panther

Two and a half weeks is a long way to be stuck traveling from Snoke's temple to where he had last found the Finalizer's coordinates.

He'd spent the better part of those two weeks and a half aboard his command shuttle with nothing to do except pace the small area or sleep on a hard seating bench turned makeshift cot. It certainly wasn't a ship made for long trips, but he'd slept on worse, and if the truth were to be told, he wasn't sleeping. He'd made the trip to Snoke alone. Fitting, since his training and the ultimate path of his life would always be a lonely one, but that meant he had no one to talk to or look at for so many long days. The first few days it had been just as well. He'd slipped into a meditative trance that lasted the better part of forty eight hours, then it got harder after that. Nothing but silence. Silence and a particularly loud hum in the back of his mind, a second awareness consistently distracting him from any attempts he made at meditating. If he didn't think he'd end up crashing his shuttle out of hyperspace by taking his saber to the boards, he would have thrown a few raging fits by now. Letting out pent up anger always made him feel better. In lieu of that, he'd exercised as best as he could in the small space until his limbs had turned to jelly. By the fifth day, however, he was feeling very much like a trapped cat. The longer he went in hyperspace with literally nothing to do but think about the scavenger, the worst his mood became.

Now, minutes away from finally boarding the Finalizer, Kylo's arms are twitching as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

He thinks back to Snoke's words — she is made of fire — of that, he needn't be reminded. He has a permanent reminder etched across his face and his collarbone. The woman is made of tougher stuff than her tiny frame and innocent face let on, and he had been stupid in underestimating her on the snow that day; foolishly giving in to his basest desires, his need to have someone as strong as himself by his side. He'd offered to teach her and watched the snowflakes landing gently on her lashes, on her lips, hoping without hope that she'd take his offer.

He rubs his fingers down his scar. That'd teach him to allow himself to get entangled with the girl. To get entangled with anyone.

Except Kylo hasn't learned a kriffing thing.

He'd spent all those days doing nothing but pacing and thinking about her. He hadn't been able to properly meditate, the hurriedly administered batca patches doing little in the way of truly healing him. He'd tried his best to keep the bond shielded both for her sake and his, and was glad when for the last two and a half weeks it had mostly remained… quiet.

Content. As it is now.

He frowns. He's used to being on the receiving end of her moody rollercoaster, or at least, he had once thought he was, and the absence of it makes him panic. He remembers how she had spiked hours before he had sent a message to Hux warning him of his impending arrival, and Kylo tries not to indulge the ugly thought that perhaps she had sensed his intentions to return. It reached a loud crescendo sometime around what he assumed was ten hundred hours ship side, then… then she was happy. Light. Airy inside his mind. He'd nearly stumbled as he'd loaded himself into his command shuttle. What was happening? For the next two weeks and change he kept replaying Snoke's words about the scavenger's _accommodations_. Was that it? He had left her inside a prison cell and somehow in the span of two weeks she was being _hosted_ inside the General's personal quarters. Kylo tries hard not to grind his molars. Was this Hux's idea of interrogating? If so, the man certainly had a very perverse idea of what _interrogation_ meant, and Kylo was set on seeing to it that it stopped _immediately_. Kylo may be a monster, but using his prisoners as playthings was not on the list of atrocities he would ever commit. Even he had a standard to adhere to.

Yet, if that was the case, what could _possibly_ account for her happiness?

No. Not if she was being forced. If she was being forced Kylo would only feel lethal fury from her.

There's always the other option…

 _Maybe she decided she likes Hux._

Gingerly, against his better judgement, he sends his senses out through the Force bond. As his ship's commands are overriden by the Finalizer's gravitational pull, Kylo Ren lifts himself off the pilot's chair and starts preparing to land. He dons his tunic, slowly working his arms through the long, comfortable sleeves. Next come his outer robes, falling like armor around him until they reach the floor. The belt, and at this he feels a spike of curiosity from the girl. He resists the urge to yank on the buckle as happiness flares, then boils back down to frustration, irritation, confusion. Kylo can barely keep up with the stream of it all. He wraps his cowl around his shoulders. Confusion is still coming to him in rivulets.

He would be lying to himself, however, if he were to dismiss the fact that her feelings changing so quickly soothes him, it means she hasn't given herself up entirely. Yet those weeks of contentment…

Next comes his helmet, settling on his head and compressing at the front, his eternal shield.

He would have _very_ strong words to trade with the General once he gets onboard.

The shuttle lands, a soft jolt of decompressing metal limbs meeting hangar floor, and he punches the button that disengages the shuttle's bay door. He already has a route planned to Hux's office, the quickest he knows even if it means thundering through impossibly crowded areas at this time of day, and is quickly clomping down the ramp when he hears the scream.

His head turns lightly as a furious girl with tendrils of hair falling out of three buns is flying at him.

 _Thump thump._

Another heartbeat.

 _Thump thump_.

The _scavenger_?

* * *

The two and a half weeks after the resistance strike go by in a blur for Rey. She spends her days in Hux's quarters, mostly reading books from a stack the General had given her after she very nearly begged him for _anything_ to do. In any other life Rey would have rolled her eyes hard and ground her teeth at the idea of asking General Hux for anything, but after so long with nothing but a kitten for company, she was desperate, because, in all honesty, she had been bored out of her blessed mind. Stretching and practicing her kicks in the open space of the room only brought her so far. She hadn't had a true sweat in ages and to call what she was experiencing cabin fever would have been the understatement of the century. She allows herself a moment to reflect on that — she'll have been aboard the Finalizer for five weeks now. A week in various cells, the rest in Hux's rooms. It feels unreal.

Her eyes run quickly over the words on the page, choosing to focus on the book in front of her rather than on the uncomfortable knowledge of her rather extended stay. It was easier to lose herself in the pages of a good story.

This one's about a tiger and a boy. Rey had to ask Hux what a tiger was and Hux had laughed and pointed to Millicent - which she had finally learned was the kitten's name, - and said a tiger was a giant version of the cat in her lap. Striped and with fangs the length of his hand.

They had died off a long time ago, his words tinged with something so close to sadness that Rey had wondered who this man who had replaced her General was and what he was doing here. Her mind kept turning his laugh inside her brain. It was airy, unguarded, and so rare it had startled Rey, story all but forgotten for a few moments. Hed' picked up his personal holopad and accessed the galactic database, pulling up an image of a tiger when she had told him she did not believe a word he said. Her breath had caught in her throat. Tigers were _beautiful_! Beautiful, powerful, regal creatures. She could understand now the sadness in the man's voice at their extinction.

He'd left her to her book, then, taking off to deal with much more important things than regaling her with stories of long lost species. Her mind had been thoroughly taken up with tales of tigers and jungles and a boy lost at sea. She had never had access to books, though she had known how to read - being good at languages had its benefits, and she assumed she'd been taught before being left on Jakku - and having access to this novelty swept her up for the rest of her day until —

Hux is walking in the bedroom sometime around midday, which is so uncharacteristic of his daily routine that Rey jumps at the door opening. He raises his eyebrows at her as he walks in, obviously amused at her reaction while deftly removing his other glove, and Rey refrains from scowling. It comes either way.

Hux's lips quirk in the ghost of a smirk just as he's coming forward to stand in front of her.

"So what's happened so far?" he asks conversationally and Rey knows he's speaking of the book. An olive branch, then. She imagines he knows exactly what's happened and is simply trying to appease her for his intrusion. It works, suddenly she's all excited again.

"They're on an island with fresh water!" she says, a little too exuberantly, completely forgetting the fright he'd given her. She'd seen the sea of Ahch-To, but for her, it was the fresh bodies of water that held the appeal. So much water available to drink! In another life, she'd fill herself up until she had to roll herself away if given the chance, Rey thought. Kriff, she would in _any_ life. This new hobby of hers is like being able to live a thousand lives while sitting comfortably on a couch, a luxury she never thought she'd have while she sweated on Jakku inside the dead bellies of giant ships. She didn't know pages could be so thrilling. Not for the first time, she wonders how he managed to get his hands on real books — paper is an expensive commodity. But then again, this is General Hux. The man could probably buy entire planets and turn it all to paper.

Hux nods then, his eyes traveling to the left as if trying to recall the specific scene, before he shakes his head with another twitch of his lips.

"I am afraid the stories of tigers and boys must wait now." He stretches his hand out to her much like he had nearly a month ago, the glove held in his left hand, "we have a visitor for you."

Rey frowns, first at his hand and then at his face, but when his hand remains held out for her, she very gingerly raises hers and places it in his palm. The shock that runs through her is like a spark. His fingers are soft and incredibly warm where she had expected nothing but ice, because in her mind he would be as icy as his glare. Strong, limber digits wrap around her own, engulfing her much smaller ones in their heat and he tugs her up and out of her seat. Then he's dropping her hand and Rey allows herself a moment to miss that warmth because it reminds her of the heat of Jakku. When he next speaks the thought escapes quickly, a small bird being set free.

"If I were you, I'd… prepare myself for this," he advises, a warning weaved into his words as he turns sharply around and starts walking towards the door. She hurries after him.

"What do you mean, prepare myself?" she demands once out of his quarters, but Hux ignores her and simply keeps walking ahead, hands clasped behind him, cap securely seated on his perfectly combed head of red hair. Rey scrunches her nose. The man is insufferable.

They had fallen into a rhythm, Hux and Rey, ever since the supplies depot incident two weeks prior. Rey had not stopped her attempts to find a route to freedom, not that she could find any, but she had admitted to herself that she was tired of fighting, and what she learned in the meantime could be useful. Hux tried to be a somewhat tolerable human being, in whatever small capacity the stiff man could muster, and Rey in turn would not goad him or start fights. He had even allowed her in the situation room when the First Order had retaliated against the Resistance, ensuring she got a front row seat. The knot inside Rey's stomach had finally let loose when, after everything was said and done, stormtroopers had landed to secure the space and found no casualties. The Resistance had heeded her message and evacuated. Sometimes Hux would let her follow him around, shadowing him while he worked, and Rey had started to relax. A handful of times they even had pleasant dinners and conversations. So, in exchange, Rey had also tried to be a decent person to him, though sometimes he made it difficult.

Like right now.

"General?" She presses, lips stiff, "what do you mean, prepare myself?"

Hux says nothing and irritation worms itself from the bottom of her spine all the way to her shoulders, knotting her muscles, and she's about to yell at him when then they come to a hallway she remembers. She frowns. This is the same hallway she had been apprehended in the first time. They don't stop, Hux leading her until they're standing in the hangar.

A black, beautiful, sleek, terrifying command shuttle is settled smack dab in the middle of the hangar's platform, the ramp lowering slowly. Rey takes in a deep breath and holds it. She would know that shuttle anywhere, only now beginning to understand what the general had meant about having a visitor.

Then the clomping comes, reverberating off the walls. Rey bristles on instinct.

She can't stop herself.

She lurches with a scream.

There's only enough time for her ears to register Hux's sardonic comment of ' _Well, that's one way to welcome him home_ ,' but the General makes no move to stop her and Rey is flying at full speed towards Kylo Ren.

His helmeted face turns, then, and something inside Rey thrums. Surprise. He had not expected her to be out here. That golden rope that had anchored itself in her head for so long and that Rey had tried to avoid thinking of — because it had been _him_ when she had touched it — shakes and glows inside of her; Rey's fury flares up out of a well of anger she didn't know she possessed.

She grabs a long metal rod with wrench heads on its ends off of an unsuspecting mechanic on his way to another ship, wielding it above her head like she would her staff. The mechanic yells after her but she doesn't hear it. The rod is shorter than her staff, but it would do just fine in order to bash Kylo Ren's stupid face in.

She screams again, jumping high and bringing down the rod to meet his head.

She half expects him to whip out his lightsaber and strike her down mid-leap, but perhaps he's still taken in by surprise because he simply twirls out of the way and blocks with his arm. There's a modulated hiss, and a spark of pleasure runs through Rey even as she feels a pain in her own arm at the rod's contact. They both startle at this - her at the pain, him at the pleasure - but they recover quickly when he turns to twist the rod out of her hands. She wraps her body around it and yanks, pulling him close until his visor's a hair away from her nose before her booted foot meets his chest. She shoves his hold off with all the strength she has.

He's sent back a handful of feet, his boots skidding shrilly on the metal floors as he slides backwards, Rey crouching with a feral snarl. There's a small echo of pain on her forearm, but she ignores it because she has _so much pain_ to inflict yet. There's a sardonic thought pressing into her mind, and Rey can almost swear that it is his, but then when she tries to push against his mind as she had on Starkiller base, she's met with a brick wall.

 _Fine._

She could do without his thoughts _anyway_.

She twirls low, bringing the rod to his kneecaps, trying to knock him off his feet, yet he's fast and jumps high enough to avoid the sweep, landing hard and advancing on her. Rey runs a few steps back, metal rod swinging, before letting out a scream and running full force at the man. She feints, he tries to grab her from the left and she swings to the right, twirling behind him and whacking him straight between the shoulder blades. He makes a grab for her hair, trying to gain purchase anywhere he can, and she dodges of out those large gloved fingers just in time. Her shoulders itch, a dampened version of the strike, but she refuses to think about it.

He manages to grab her wrist and she uses the momentum to dive under his arm, twisting it along with her as she raises her foot and brings it down hard on his leg.

Kylo Ren stumbles forward after a well placed kick to his shin and she whacks him once more, this time over the shoulder, so very close to his neck; and perhaps this is what does it because Ren turns around with a modulated snarl and his hands go to his waist.

"Enough!" Kylo Ren's command is more of a thunderous bark than anything, the rumble of his chest shaking through Rey's limps even at this distance. A wolf's growl, poised to rip her apart.

There's a hiss of red plasma as his lightsaber's cross-guard ignites and he drops into an opening stance. A collective wince shudders through the crowd in the hangar, nobody daring to breathe. At the sight of the his saber flaring like a live wire, everyone steps back further.

She narrows her eyes, dropping into her own stance, daring him to approach.

All stormtroopers have retreated to form a very large semi-circle around them, berth wide enough to avoid any pain. Every single commissioned worker and officer has stopped in their tracks. There are hundreds of eyes trained on them from the railings above their heads like a morbid version of a play at a colosseum.

She wishes she had Luke's lightsaber, but if she must die right here, she'd give as good as she got before she died.

Then…

"Alright, children," comes the voice of General Hux over the whispers building around them.

"As entertaining as seeing you two kill each other would be," Hux's boots click on the floors in the dreary quiet as he approaches at his leisure, "I _really_ would appreciate it if you spared my hangar."

Then he's standing between Rey and Kylo Ren, watching between Rey's snarl, her chest heaving with anger, and Kylo Ren's impassive and dangerous immobile form.

"She started it," is all that comes from Kylo Ren in a low threatening tone.

Hux snorts.

"Remember your rank, Lord Ren," is all he gives the Knight to his side, then his eyes narrow at Rey, "And you, remember where you are, girl."

Rey nearly turns the metal rod on Hux at that, but the General is standing with his back straight and his nose up in the air.

A heartbeat, then two more.

She takes a deep breath, hoods her lids, and then drops her arms to her sides, the metal rod clattering to the floor. Fighting either one of them now would be a grave mistake.

Kylo ren deactivates his saber. He straightens to his full height, rolling his shoulders.

He'd be covered in bruises in the morning, she thinks. _Good_.

The poor mechanic she had basically yanked the tool-turned-weapon from scurries to her side, still as far away from her as he can go while still being able to reach the thing, and yanks it away before hurrying off out of view.

They stand there like perfectly chastised children.

"Now," General Hux continues once it's clear they don't plan on attacking each other like animals again, "Will you please follow me?"

Rey knows the question is more for Rey's benefit. Kylo Ren doesn't answer to anybody; he could just stomp off and the General would not bat an eyelash. The same thing couldn't be said for Rey. So she squares her shoulders and watches as Hux walks away.

They stand there for a second too long, waiting for the other to take a step; somewhere in her mind Rey realizes how childish this is, not wanting to be the first to walk, but then Hux is turning around and shooting them both a warning glare. Kylo Ren and Rey step forward at the same time.

Soon enough the tall, dark mountain that is Ren has caught up to Hux and is walking beside him, leaving Rey to follow behind the two giants. She sneers at their backs. They don't even bother to make sure she's following. They seem to be in no rush to defend themselves from an attack from behind. Or even to make sure she's not running, though she knows that Kylo Ren would freeze her on the spot if she tried. That last thought irks her. They've stopped considering her dangerous, and it sets Rey's skin aflame. She itches to grab Kylo Ren's lightsaber and hack at them both.

"You will do no such thing," Ren warns, and Hux turns a confused look at Ren before giving Rey a curious glance.

Rey grinds her molars but remains silent.

She hates that she's projecting her thoughts, and tries to recall how she had forced him out of her mind the last time. But that had been luck, and for the first time in her life she envies the dark cloaked man in front of her something. She wishes she knew how he had blocked her in the hangar.

His head turns a few degrees to glance back at her at this, but if he had snatched that thought too, he has nothing to say on the matter.

They continue walking until they're standing in front of Hux's quarters again. Rey makes it forward to step into the room as soon as the door opens. Somewhere in her mind, her bond to Kylo Ren stiffens at how natural it had come for her to enter the other man's room. Rey frowns and stops, but the two men have already stepped inside and the door is closing.

"Forgive the meeting place, Lord Ren," Hux drawls, obviously not feeling sorry at all about it, "But due to… _circumstances_ ," Hux looks at Rey then, and Rey stomps down on the urge to shoot him a gloating smirk, "these are her holding quarters at the moment. So we must meet here. I ask that you two behave like adult, well mannered human beings here."

The last words very definitely were not a request. Hux walks past them both and Rey follows, quickly claiming her high chair, refusing to allow Kylo Ren to disturb one of the few small constants in her life by snatching it first. Hux claims the other opposite her, and they both give Ren an expectant look before the man lowers himself robotically onto the middle of the long grey leather couch between them both. He turns to look at Rey through his visor and her hackles rise. She itches to find something to throw at his head. He says nothing, but something like amusement flickers in her mind. Rey wonders if he realizes he's projecting just as much as she has been.

The silence stretches on, Hux having leaned back in his seat, seemingly happy to just watch the silent war going on between the two individuals in front of him.

When it becomes too much to bear, Rey barks.

"Are we going to just sit here and stare at each other?" she nearly growls, "because if so, it's a rather unfair exchange. I have no helmet under which to hide."

She nearly bites out the last word, thoroughly irritated with all of this, wanting nothing more than to jump on the man who had taken so much from her and tear him to pieces.

Hux drums his fingers on the arm of his chair. Rey, for once, ignores it and keeps staring at Kylo Ren.

Instead of making any move to remove the helmet, Kylo simply changes subjects, immobile in his seat.

"You'll be happy to hear Ahch-To has been deserted."

Rey's brain blanks of anything else she had been thinking about.

 _Luke._

"Your… _master_ …" Kylo supplies snidely, "escaped by the time I made it to the Jedi temple."

Rey's eyes flicker, but she can't ask the question she wants to ask. What about Chewie? R2-D2?

She brushes his mind again and meets nothing but hard steeled determination to keep her out.

"The coward ran," Kylo continues in a murmur, turning then to look at General Hux. "We're back to square one."

Hux arches an eyebrow at Kylo Ren, because, really, the problems of Jedi and Dark Force users were of no consequence to him unless Snoke made it Hux's problem. His eyes settle on Kylo Ren's mask before very pointedly looking back at Rey, forcing Kylo's gaze to return to her.

Rey's own gaze has fallen to the lilies in the middle of the table. Her lips are bloodless, pressed in a tight grip, her hands digging into her charcoal grey tunic until she can feel the sharp edges of her fingernails.

"He's not my master," she whispers, finally, when the minutes tick by and no one else mutters a word.

There's a sort catch of air from Kylo's modulator, but Rey refuses to look up. That is, until she's the one feeling a brush against her awareness and her eyes snap up, nearly setting themselves on fire when they land on Kylo's visor again. She snarls at him silently, and the brush against her mind recedes.

Rey allows herself to be swept up in a giant wave of relief.

 _Luke escaped._

That must mean that they had figured out that Rey went missing. Would they know that she had been captured? Would they think to look for her? Would they assume her _dead_? That last thought sends a pang of pain spreading through her chest, because if they think she's dead, it means no one's looking for her.

No. She won't let herself think about it that way.

If Luke disappeared, hopefully with Chewie and the droid, then they would try and track her down. She was _sure_ of that.

"What did you say?" Kylo Ren speaks, and she catches the infliction in his voice even through the hiss of his modulator.

Rey narrows her eyes, staring at him in defiance.

"He's not my master," she repeats. No use hiding that now. Her fists cling to her tunic so hard she starts feeling her circulation being cut off from her fingers.

"He turned me down. Something about old mistakes coming to haunt him," she glares at Ren, "He gave me a meal and a place to sleep, a kind word, and then set me out. He wouldn't teach me."

At this, Kylo tilts his head slightly, silently watching her, and somehow Rey knows the look under the mask is considering, calculating. And.. And a little triumphant.

She _feels_ it. Feels it through that blasted golden thread.

Rey shivers, but not in fear. She's quivering with rage. It takes everything she has to not leap at him and tear out his eyes.

Then he stands, nods to Hux - something that seems to take Hux by surprise, Rey thinks, realizing that she's starting to distinguish between the almost-nonexistent changes of expression on the general's face — and then Kylo Ren is leaving the room.

There's a beat of uncomfortable silence then.

And another.

"Well, that went better than expected," Hux murmurs, getting up and walking away from Rey, leaving her to her anger as he enters his personal office and closes the door behind him.

* * *

A short, stocky woman dressed in crisp black clothes, a First Order emblem on her bosom, walks in to find Rey sprawled on the leather couch, nose inside a book.

She comes to a stop behind the glass coffee table and gives Rey a once over before clearing her throat.

Rey jumps.

She had been so engrossed that she missed the sounds of the woman entering entirely.

"Lady Rey," she greets, and Rey cringes. "I have a delivery for you."

"Please…" Rey pleads, "call me Rey."

Rey hates the title, but the crew has taken to simply addressing her as Lady Rey. The thought makes her stomach queasy. What did the title mean? What about the lack of a prisoner number? Why had they stopped calling her Prisoner 3259 to begin with?

The woman gives a hint of a smile before schooling her expression, all business once more.

"I am sorry, Lady Rey," she shakes her head, then changes the subject, returning to the delivery. "This is to be delivered to you."

The stocky woman pushes a parcel forward and Rey frowns at it, setting her book aside.

"What is it?" she ask, curious but wary as her fingers wrap around the bundle wrapped in black paper, bringing it to her lap.

"Training clothes, ma'am."

Her eyes fly forward, brows nearly in her hairline as she watches the woman switch on her feet.

"Training clothes?" Rey asks, finally, "Who ordered you to deliver these?"

"Lord Ren, ma'am." The woman really fidgets now. She's obviously uncomfortable. "Along with a message."

By now the woman is positively twitching. Rey practices what she had attempted on Kylo before, brushing her mind gently against the woman's. The raven-haired woman does not seem to notice the intrusion, her face betraying nothing. Rey watches as a mountain of black wool, leather and metal looms in a memory over the woman standing in front of Rey, speaking in no uncertain terms that _Lady Rey_ is not to refuse.

So that's where the name has come from.

Rey tilts her head lightly, trying not to let her irritation show. It was not this lady's fault, after all.

"You are to meet Lord Ren in room 508, Ma'am, at your earliest convenience."

Rey's brows raise at this. _At her convenience_? So the insufferable asshole would not come here and drag her kicking and screaming again?

"What is this room, if you don't mind?" she asks, as friendly a tone of voice as she can muster.

"It's the…" The woman looks at her feet then, "It's the Knight's training room, Lady Rey."

Rey nods then, and the woman lets out an audible sigh of relief at this, happy to not be interrogated any longer, and eagerly power walks out of Hux's quarters.

Hux, who had been in his office this afternoon, opens his door and leans against the door frame with one brow quirked at her. He must have heard everything.

"We're going to have to move you soon, I dare say," he drones on, "You keep bringing in guests uninvited into _my_ rooms. I'm starting to feel like a guest in my own home, and you the _lady_."

There is no malice to those words and Rey snorts at Hux's almost playful jab, too annoyed at Kylo Ren's _request_ to bother bantering with the general. She undoes the bundle in her hands, gasping at what she pulls out. A set of clothes nearly identical to what she used to wear in Jakku, complete with leather belt, arm wraps and leather wrist cuff, except…

Except this is all black. From the loose trousers and short sleeved overshirt to the long strip of flowing fabric.

She holds the pieces one by one in front of her with a frown.

"Is this a _joke_?" she asks, disbelieving.

Hux is still leaning against the door frame, eyes trained on the set of clothing, and when he speaks, he sounds ridiculously amused.

"Have you known Kylo Ren to ever make a _joke_? But…He's a strange creature, that man."

Rey nearly wants to throw the clothes in Hux's face. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Instead she lets out a huff.

They're not training clothes, she knows. They're just a much more expensive, cleaner imitation of her scavenger clothes, and the reminder jams itself between her ribs like a sharp thorn. But she admits they would be easier to move in; the tunic and curve-hugging trousers she currently sported not made to run around and fight in.

Rey shoves the clothes back into the parcel and glares at them, but then Hux is walking towards the front door. He punches in an access code, a light beeps green and remains green, and then he's slowly returning to his office with what could very easily pass off as a smirk on his face.

"You're welcome to go. I will have an escort outside for you shortly."

He closes the door behind him and Rey's left sitting on the couch, steaming.

"Bastard," she mutters.

Of course this would only be the one time he allows her out willingly.

She itches to set the clothes on fire. To tear them apart and toss them through the garbage chute.

She considers those options for a moment too long.

Then, because the thought of using her muscles - and perhaps, if she's lucky, a chance to beat the pulp out of Kylo Ren - is too hard to resist, she changes right in the middle of the living room and storms out of the room.

Outside the room is Captain Phasma, waiting ever patiently, still as a statue.

"Lady Rey," comes the sound through Phasma's helmet in greeting.

Rey flinches.

"Please, I don't know why people keep doing that," she rants, knowing exactly why, "but could you _please_ stop calling me that?"

"As you say, Lady Rey," is all that Phasma gives her, and Rey thinks Phasma is just as amused at the title as Hux had been at the clothes earlier on. It's like they're all conspiring to drive her insane. Rey stews in her irritation, following the tall woman silently through halls and down lifts.

It takes a good fifteen minutes until they reach their destination. Long enough for Rey to calm down by a hair or two.

"Room 508, Lady Rey," Phasma says, standing a few steps away to allow Rey to walk through.

Rey shoots Phasma a look that's part exasperation and part pleading not to be left alone. She doesn't know this woman, but anybody is preferable to Kylo bloody Ren.

Phasma simply nods once before turning on her heel and walking away to wait a distance away.

Rey turns towards the doors and steels herself.

* * *

"Good. You came," Kylo murmurs.

The girl coming in through the doors into his training room is a vision in black, anger and determination worn over her shoulders like a mantle. Kylo's lips twitch under his helmet. She's walking robotically to where he stands, stopping several feet away and simply glaring at him in silence.

He stands there watching her for a long moment before he walks to the weapons rack, hefting two heavy, well balanced long-staffs. He picked the weapons precisely because it had been her torture device of choice to club him with in the hangar. Without warning, Kylo tosses one at her back and she turns, reflex quick as a cat's, her hand snatching the staff out of the air. She stares at it for a second, nearly unbelieving, before dropping back into her opening crouch; the perfect picture of savage fury. Kylo circles her, his breathing coming as a metallic rasp through his modulator, steps quiet while his hand deftly turns his own weapon.

They don't say a word. They don't spare a warning, or a single twitch of muscle.

Instead they jump into each other and fight.

The dance they weave is a deathly close combat waltz. They knock staffs against each other, lose ground, gain ground, whack and smack each other's undefended angles; him gingerly, though never softly, her with all the strength her slender arms can afford her.

Kylo slips into a meditative trance, and suddenly the bond that binds them is glowing gold. He feels her anger as surely as if it were his own.

But there is something else there, as well.

Pain.

"Why do you hurt?" he murmurs, curious, blocking her downward strike with tense muscles, her staff coming uncomfortably close to his visor as it clanks against his own, the clacking ring reverberating up his forearms.

She snarls, bloodthirsty, and comes at him harder yet.

He parries and they continue their incessant circling, locking staffs then jumping away, aiming for the other person's elbows and knees and ankles, and anywhere they can possibly reach.

He throws her down once and she loses all sense of composure. She lunges for him like an angry rancor then, ramming him with so much force that he stumbles back and has to scramble before she can pin him by the throat. He blocks her jab to his stomach, deflecting it and knocking the staff aside, but the other end hits him on the thigh and his leg nearly bends at the knee. He forgets to go slow in that moment, swiping at her ankles and sending her flying to the ground with a loud 'thud.'

He could freeze her in place and end this, but instead steps back and allows her to climb to her feet. This fight isn't done yet.

"Why do you hurt?" he repeats, his voice low.

She snarls.

"Why do you _care_?!" Rey spits out, eyes wild as he straightens and lowers his staff a degree.

"I feel it, too. I feel everything you feel."

The words are so close to what he had said to her nearly two months ago, though he means something entirely different this time.

Before she can go too far down that path, he amends.

"And it's painted all over your face."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Rey screams and runs towards him, swinging her staff like she would a club. She yells her words to match every whack she administers, each word enunciated every time she catches him across shoulders, forearms, midsection.

"At least one of us can tell!"

Ren jumps back and blocks her this time, his staff and hers meeting between them as he finally puts his weight to good use and forces her against one of the pillars of the training room.

"What?"

"Isn't it obvious? You stand there and judge me and my feelings, so _easily_ displayed for you to pluck and mock," she gnashes her teeth, forcing the words out between pants, "while you hide behind your shiny little mask like a _coward_!"

Rey seems unaware that she's left the bond wide open— or perhaps she does know, and just wants him to know it — and he can sense just how irritated she is at him. How furious. How much she hates him. Him and the mask he wore, in her mind. He shoves her until she's hitting the solid metal pillar with a hard thud, a wheeze coming out of her as the breath leaves her lungs. The motion gives him just enough time to step back and, for the third time in his life, remove his helmet in front of somebody willingly. He lets it clank to the floor then picks up his staff again, resuming his fighting stance.

Rey stares.

"Now we're even." He says, lips drawn back, wild.

It's not a smile.

She returns the favor by flashing him sharp, pointy teeth with a snarl.

They fly at each other again and resume their deadly waltz. The long staff is not a Jedi's weapon, but she wields her it like a saber just the same, and he refuses to give up ground. She tries to jab at his jaw and he pivots just in time, catching her hard by the shoulder blade with his own weapon and spinning her around with a shove of its blunt end.

 _Make her yours, and you will be stronger than you could ever know._

He won't go soft on her, though he holds back just enough to avoid irreparable injuries. She'd be no use to him otherwise. Still, it's enough to send her flying multiple times. Each time, she recovers and advances. She's made of fire, tougher than Luke Skywalker would ever be. She would have been wasted at his hand.

His heart thunders in him as their bond stretches and contracts, glows and hums, that single, longing note playing in his mind as surely as it plays in hers while they swirl around each other in a hurricane of black robes and flowing fabric. Her footsteps are light, Kylo notes, impressed, and what she lacks in strength she makes up for speed. They spend an hour like this. Two hours, then three.

Circling, encroaching, attacking, retreating.

"Happy yet?" he asks through gritted teeth after what feels like eternity, breath hard on his throat. His wounds from his _rehabilitation_ have not healed. Would not be healed, as ordered by Snoke, unless they healed on their own. So he had avoided the med bay and is feeling it now as Rey hits him over tender wounds and he lets out barely audible hisses every time.

The girl in front of him is covered in sweat, hair flying out of her buns, around her face, eyes dark with something that gives him hope that he would be able to turn her; her chest rises and falls, hitching every few seconds. He had never seen something so beautiful and so terrifying at the same time.

"What could I _possibly_ be happy about?" she sneers, crouching lower, a panther readying for the kill. A predatory wolf in her own right.

"Are you done _beating_ me?" he asks, softer than he intended, though it turns dark soon enough, "are you done making me hurt, happy watching me _bleed_?"

He remembers the thoughts he had snatched in the hangar, of her absolute need to draw blood. Well, she is drawing it now. A few of his injuries had busted open again and he's bleeding from multiple spots.

She frowns, fingers twitching around her staff, and then her eyes are traveling up and down his frame, taking him all in, zeroing in on the wet spots that are just a shade darker than the rest of his robes. He hefts his staff, waiting for her to pounce now that she knows his weakness.

But then her hands are falling to her sides and she's staying her attack.

"You're hurt."

There is no compassion in those words. They're as cold as ice, a statement, rather than his question not long ago. It mocks him.

Hux must have been teaching her well, Kylo thinks with wry amusement.

"I am," he admits.

"You're hurt," she repeats, "and you asked me here to fight you while you're like _this_."

Her voice hardens.

"Why, did you think I couldn't beat you otherwise?" her tone is rising to a shrill yell by the second, "Did you think you were doing me a..a _favor_? Do you think me so weak that you have to give me an _advantage_? Who do you _TAKE_ ME FOR?!"

She's screaming and Kylo can only stare as she unleashes on him. Her face is turning red and her eyes, wild before, hold nothing but pure venom and unchecked ferocity.

 _Turn her._

Her breathing comes in rough gasps, her skin glows with the sweat of hours of exertion, tendrils of hair sticking to her forehead, her cheeks, her neck. In that moment Rey is as close to a goddess as Kylo imagined anyone could ever be.

 _Make her yours._

"I only gave you what you longed for, Rey," he murmurs. Rey screams then, hating the sound of her name on his lips, and chucks the staff at his head so hard that had Kylo not twitched aside to avoid it, she would have taken an eye.

"I _HATE_ YOU!" she screams. Kylo fights the urge to worry at his lower lip, staying where he stands, scared to spook her.

"I know," he whispers.

He doesn't think the words reach her. She's too wrapped up in her own mind. Flashes of images come flying at him. The dark clothes she wears a contrast to her clothes on Jakku. A mockery of her suffering, of her hardships, and Kylo frowns because he did not intend them that way.

The fight in the snow - the scar crossing Kylo's face itches at this - her nearly taking his head off. There's satisfaction rolling off her at that thought.

His offer to teach her.

Grudging distrust.

Luke turning her down.

A pang, an ache, settling itself just below her breast upon her heart.

She's falling apart emotionally in front of him, and something tugs at him to go to her — perhaps that part of him that had obsessed over her for two months now, that had thought of nothing but her for the last two weeks — but he remains where he is. Moving now would only make it worse.

"Let me go," she finally says.

It comes so out of her so suddenly that Kylo frowns, blinks, repeats the words in his brain so that he can understand them. Anyone else would think she's asking to be dismissed. Kylo knows better.

"I can't do that." He replies, because he can offer her nothing but the truth.

"I am nothing, no one," she grinds out, "I am not powerful enough to fight you and defeat you, even while you stand there bleeding right in front of my eyes."

"Then let me teach you," he offers in a nearly pleading tone. She ignores him.

"I defeated you once by sheer luck, and I have nothing to offer. You're wasting your time. Let me go."

"I can't do that." He repeats.

 _"WHY NOT?!"_

He considers his words carefully, then.

"You _are_ powerful," he finally replies with only half truth as he slowly walks towards her, because admitting the full truth would be a sure way to make her run. She flinches, ready to flee, and Kylo slows his step. "You are powerful, but also volatile."

 _That's an understatement, even from me,_ he thinks to himself, continuing to inch towards her with careful steps.

"What happens if I let you go, Rey?"

His words are met with a sneer, displeased again to hear her name uttered by his mouth. He ignores the soft pang of hurt in his chest.

"If I let you go, you run away to those people you call _friends_ , or to somewhere else, and you continue fleeing with dynamite in your blood until you can no longer control your powers. Then you'll accidentally kill someone, or worse, _yourself_ , because you don't even know how to _contain_ it. And your friends won't be able to help you. Where are your friends, Rey? Why aren't they here?"

With every word he emphasizes her face turns from fury to pained chagrin. She's known it all along. The bond tells him as much as her thoughts come unbidden into his mind.

"You may think yourself a …no one," he murmurs, her own words repeated to her softly, "but you have so much potential."

She looks at him then, and he feels that single, tiny thread in her mind that wants so desperately to believe his words. She kills the thought and her eyes glaze over.

"You still need a teacher," he offers again, coming to stand inches from her. Not one to back down or be intimidated, Rey squares her shoulders and refuses to budge. "I could be that for you… if only so you learn not to be a danger to yourself."

"Why?" she asks, her voice retaining the same hardness of minutes ago.

He looks down at her, his gaze traveling over the constellation of freckles gracing her face.

He aches to reach out and touch them. Kylo Ren has never felt an emotion if not felt viciously. Two months of chasing her face in his thoughts, in his dreams, and suddenly she's standing so close. Mostly he's curious, he tells himself, and he's _oh so curious_. But a smaller voice also whispers about how he aches to just touch her. He shies from it and chooses to focus on her face, on the feelings she's sending into his awareness.

He stills his hands at his sides and searches her gaze for a long moment, feeling the soft huff of her breath beating against his chest.

"I used to be like you once."

"I don't need a teacher." She retaliates, spitting out the obvious lie.

Kylo remains silent. It proves to be the right choice.

"I don't _want_ a teacher!" another lie.

He smiles at her then, though it holds little warmth.

"Whatever you may think, you definitely need a teacher…" he murmurs, self assured, "Though perhaps not a Jedi teacher. You are too strong, too willful, for a Jedi Master. I could teach you so much more. You need only trust me."

"Let me go." She insists, refusing to answer his plea.

Kylo ren bites his tongue to keep from losing it then.

They stand in silence for a minute.

"I can't do that."

Rey's eyes settle on his face, run down the scar she gave him, sending a shiver down his spine. her gaze is hard and dark. Entirely too unforgiving.

She turns on her heel and leaves.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** The book is Life of Pie, which at the time I wrote this I had been devouring, and one which Hux would of course give her because he's both a cat man and it's a pretty hard life lesson to learn; and who is Hux if not one to try and teach her even through fiction? ;) look at these babies being decent to each other.

Also, grumpy Kylo at the idea of Rey liking Hux. Does somebody sound a little jealous? hah!


	9. Drunken Dreams

She hates the man. She hates everything.

Rey storms out of the training room, raging. As soon as she's out, Phasma falls in step with her on her side; Rey decides she likes the woman the more for it when she says absolutely nothing, having noted Rey's mood. They walk like this, Phasma with a slow clip — slowing her stride to match Rey's, whose legs are particularly shorter — Rey with an angry stomp.

They walk and walk and Rey simmers down just long enough to note that this way back is not the one they'd taken to get to the training room; it's much longer, far less crowded. She turns her gaze towards Phasma, the Captain walking with her hands clasped behind her armor much like Hux does when he's thinking.

"Where are we going?" She asks, more irritation than she intended slipping into the words, still boiling from her _training_ with Kylo Ren. If the inflection in her voice bothers Phasma, she doesn't say. Instead she keeps her gaze ahead, her step slow, and Rey is forced to look ahead rather than trip and fall over her own two feet and add shame to her growing list of irritations for the day. That would be her luck.

"I figured you needed some time, Lady Rey," comes the modulated sound of her voice after a while before she suggests: "To think, perhaps."

Rey knows what she needs isn't time to think. She needs to spend the pent up energy coursing through her limbs. Rey glances at Captain Phasma once more.

The woman owes her nothing.

"Thank you, you're very kind," Rey finally murmurs, "you didn't need to do this."

There's a hesitant moment in which Rey feels as though Phasma is about to say something else, but instead the woman laughs, the sound a soft tinkle even through her helmet, and she shakes her head. "I am not doing it for you, Lady Rey. I'm doing it for _me_. Your mood sometimes seems to seep into the general, and I would rather avoid him walking around like a thunderhead today, cowing my men at every turn."

Rey's steps nearly falter at this sudden revelation. Phasma does not miss a beat, her steps sure. Rey tries to recover quickly.

"Is that so?" she asks, trying to channel General Hux and cloaking her voice with disinterest, but Phasma laughs again, and Rey is sure her attempt failed.

"Forgive me, Lady Rey, I shouldn't have spoken out of turn," Phasma apologizes, and Rey panics as she feels that window of comfortable honesty, the sort of camaraderie only two women could share, quickly closing. So she hurries to speak.

"No, not at all. Please, Captain. I have few people to speak to aboard this ship," Phasma looks at her then, but she continues bravely, "And you've been nice to me."

Rey thinks of the woman's small mercy of taking the long way, and suddenly feels deeply touched by such a small thing, because she did need the time to think, and this gives her a chance to finally know someone less irritating than Kylo Ren or General Hux. They were enigmas to her. Captain Phasma seemed easier to talk to.

"Does my mood really affect him?" she asks in a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would bring Hux on their heads for gossiping behind his back. Rey half believed he would. The man probably had eyes everywhere.

Phasma's chrome helmet turns to her and there's the soft, airy sound of a very low chuckle.

"Perhaps you don't notice it as well as I, who spend my time around him all hours of the day, but there have been a few times the man's been absolutely distracted. Some others his temper's been contained only by a very, very short leash." Phasma says, also lowering her voice, "Congratulations, Lady Rey, you have managed to pull emotions out of stones."

Rey can't help herself. She laughs.

The first true laugh in a month.

"You did not hear this from me, however," Phasma warns. And Rey gives her a wide grin even if she cannot see the other woman's reaction.

"I will take it to my grave."

Their long way around finally comes to an end to an end when Phasma and Rey stop in front of Hux's quarters. Rey sighs, glad to have had even a few minutes to spare where her thoughts were not consumed by Kylo Ren, and her mood suddenly sours at the thought. Then something intriguing happens.

Phasma removes her right hand gauntlet and her glove, exposing a long, pale hand and graceful fingers, and presses her palm up to the access pad. A red glow encircles her hand then beeps green, and the door opens. Rey's eyes widen.

 _Phasma_ has access to General Hux's quarters?

Her thoughts immediately go to a place less than innocent and Rey's chest is starting to turn a deep shade of red. A lover, perhaps? No wonder Phasma could read him so well. Before Rey can say anything, Phasma is nodding to her and striding away after seeing her safely back. Rey steps inside and the door suddenly shuts behind her with a resounding hiss. The implication of Phasma having access to his rooms makes Rey turn ten shades of red, but then her scavenger's quick predisposition to survival kicks in and she's wondering if she could lure Phasma back, knock her out, and use her prints to escape.

She quickly discards that idea when she remembers that Phasma is about as tall as both the General and Ren, and probably just as strong by the look of her armor's shoulders. She'd be stupid to try that. Not to mention Phasma is currently the only person who seems to want to be decent to her without ulterior motive.

Her thoughts return to Ren. Rey walks to the couch, grabs a throw pillow, then screams as loud as she can into it. She would cry if she wasn't so pissed off.

She's been gone for a few hours and nearly yelps when Hux walks back out of his office, staring at her with a smothered pillow in her hands. She had figured he'd be gone by now.

He says nothing, happy to watch her with contemplative eyes.

For once, Rey would like to just be _alone_. She hates that he watches her as though he can read her like the pages of a book.

She nearly wants to scream again.

She had spent so many years alone with nothing but sand and silence to fill her days, she had never thought she would long for that silence out in the desert ever again.

Yet here she is in captivity and can't get a single true moment of solitude to herself.

Maybe she _should_ just knock Phasma out, camaraderie and Rey's regrets be damned.

"Dinner will be served at seven," is all he gives her before walking back into his office and shutting the door.

And then seven comes around and dinner's being served, and Rey gets an idea.

It's silly, but she's desperate, especially after her run-in with Kylo Ren bringing her escape to the forefront of her mind, and it _might_ just work.

"I would like to try wine again," she declares as the General is sitting himself to the table. Hux doesn't seem to question this, perhaps too used to their meals and Rey's rather eccentric behavior when it came to anything revolving around food by now. The attendants are just about to reach the door when he stops them, then, calling one back with a twitch of his finger.

A short boy with barely a hint of stubble comes hurrying back with a ridiculously big bottle of red wine, setting himself to the task of filling up their glasses.

When he makes to move, Rey reaches for his hand and stops him. He visibly flinches at her touch, a boy not used to being touched - _unless it's punishment_ , Rey imagines - but remains where he stands. Rey smiles at him and then grabs the nearly full bottle from his hands, setting it on the table slowly. She lets the boy go and he practically runs, leaving Rey and Hux alone.

Rey is rewarded with the incredulous look on the General's face. Or at least, Hux's version of incredulity. His eyes have widened a fraction and his hands are frozen mid-way to his lap, white fabric napkin outstretched between his fingers as he watches her with raised eyebrows.

She glares defiantly back at him, her own eyebrows shooting up, and he recovers quickly, resuming his busy work of setting his napkin in place. Any thoughts he might have had on her sudden desire to down a bottle of wine he keeps to himself.

They eat quietly; or, really, Hux eats while Rey drinks.

She'd never drank, not really. Though she'd had her fair attempts at a sip or two on Niima Outpost, Rey considered drunkenness a dangerous habit to indulge in a world where no one would ever look out for her. She had a scrap of a home and scraps of salvage to protect, and by the way visitors and wretches on the planet alike acted when drunk, Rey had quickly learned to stay away from the stuff. Today the vile stuff would be her ticket to freedom. She pushes her plate aside — After her fight with Ren, she has no appetite — and makes a grab for her glass of wine. Sip after sip they go down, Rey ignoring the burn going down her throat. The first few swallows force her to pinch her nose, but it becomes easier by the third or the fourth, though her sips are small to avoid consuming too much too quickly. This goes on for a while.

Hux is watching her like a hawk, probably confused at her sudden desire to not only down her current glass of wine but refill it a second time.

"Perhaps you should pace yourself," he finally comments when she accidentally lets out a hiccup she did not intend for, her second glass half empty.

Her head's a little fuzzy, and she's starting to _feel_ really _good_.

 _So this is why the wretches drank._ It feels good enough to almost help her forget Ren and his stupid face.

The edges of her anger are even starting to get slightly blurry.

Is this why the General drank the thing? Yes, she decided. She imagined he had plenty to forget.

But Rey has a plan to see to. By the way this wine is making her feel, she figures if she can get the general to drink just as much, it might just work. She isn't stupid. She had seen plenty of people get hammered during the nighttime in Jakku. Once men lost their senses they'd do anything, especially if a pretty woman asked.

Rey didn't think she was pretty, per se, but she knew she also wasn't entirely _hideous_. If all failed, she'd _knock_ him out over the head. With the bottle, if necessary.

Yes.

She'd knock him out and drag him to the door and use his hand to escape.

Rey takes in a deep breath and smiles the most charming smile she can, scraping her chair back and grabbing the bottle as she makes her way towards Hux, who's visibly tensing with every semi-wobbly step she takes.

"General, why didn't you tell me this was so _good_?" she asks coyly, shaking the bottle in front of his eyes. She doesn't mean for it to come out so sickly sweet, she thinks, once the words escape from her lips. She was trying for sultry, not intoxicated wench, but Rey had had a few too many sips now, and they were quickly adding up.

Hux's eyes never leave her, setting his silverware down and leaning back in his chair.

"It is," he replies, refusing her anything else.

"You should share this with me. It would be rude of me to drink it all by myself," she gestures to the bottle again, raising her brows at him with what she hopes are innocent eyes.

"Not at all," he says, and Rey thinks she sees the corners of his lips twitch, but when she concentrates on the full pout of his mouth, it's gone. "Please, be my guest."

Rey frowns at this.

"No," she states flatly. "I insist. Consider it celebrating for our mutual _efforts_."

People seemed to drink in order to celebrate on Jakku, after all. The bottle's nowhere near empty. She shoves it in front of his face as if to emphasize her point, forcing him to inch his head back to avoid getting his nose bashed in with it. Did she really have that much alcohol? She doesn't think so.

"Drink," she orders.

She fills his glass to the brim, careful not to slosh it everywhere, though a few drops still make it to the table.

General Hux looks at the glass, then at her face. Then he's giving the barest of shrugs and lifting the bloated glass to her between long fingers.

"As you wish," he says, and he clinks the glass with her bottle. "Cheers."

Hux drinks from his glass and Rey, not wanting to bother with going back for her own, simply takes a swig from the bottle. When his glass is empty, she refills it again, taking just as many liberal gulps until the bottle's about a third of the way to the bottom.

Rey sways slightly against the table and Hux gently moves out of her way, indicating his own chair. Rey plops down on it ungracefully. He is walking away then, and Rey frowns.

"Hey where are you going?"

"Sending a comm before I forget," is all he offers, walking to his office. He punches something into his data pad, turning to look at Rey once more before seeming to think better of it and punching something else again.

Rey raises an eyebrow at him but her train of thought is a little fuzzy now, and instead she focuses on the fork in front of her. Is the room _spinning_?

Then Hux is returning and leaning back against the table, one arm wrapped around his midsection lazily, the other one reaching to grab his glass of wine. She notes how he drinks slowly while he watches her from over the crystal rim of the glass.

"I hate Kylo Ren," she blurts out, then frowns because she had not intended to say that. She had intended to tell him to drink more.

Hux hums, but says nothing, simply taking another sip.

Rey looks at his glass and gets up, swaying slightly in place as she inches closer to Hux and lifts the bottle up to refill it. When her forearm shakes, the General's long fingers wrap around her wrist, steadying her, guiding her hand to a tilt so that she can fill his glass, eyes locked on her face.

Then she's pulling back and he lets her go, and Rey takes another swig of the sticky, sweet red liquid. She realizes pleasantly that it no longer burns going down.

"I hate you, too," she continues.

The general's lips do twitch up then, a darker shade of red from the wine as he murmurs around the edge of his glass.

"I know."

"I hate this ship."

"Yes."

"I hate this room."

"Hmmhm."

"And I really _hate_ these _clothes_ ," that last remark slips out as a whine, but by now she can't bring herself to care all that much.

She gestures to her clothes with the bottle, a few droplets spilling on her trousers.

She's getting angry again, and curses herself because the wine isn't helping take away the edge anymore, and Rey feels tiny tears threatening to pool on her lashes.

She stands up, taking one last swig of the wine before emptying the rest in Hux's glass, who seems happy to continue sipping away, and Rey stomps around the room somewhat shakily. Hux's eyes trace her path and watch her quietly, one arm resting over the other as he leans back against the table, his ankles crossed at his leisure.

"I hate these clothes," she says, yanking out the long strip of flowy fabric from her leather belt. She chucks it at the window facing space and it only floats down slowly, gracefully landing on the floor. That makes her angrier.

"I hate this prison!" she yells, taking off the belt and chucking it at the window as well. Hux doesn't move.

"I hate you," she screams, "and Kylo Ren," another scream.

Next comes her shirt, because she's not even remotely thinking straight at this point. Not that it matters anyway. The man's seen far more.

"I hate the Force!"

And with that, she collapses on the leather couch and starts crying. It's a single tiny sob, really. But it wrenches itself out of her chest before she can stop it.

Hux comes to stand in front of her and lowers himself to the high chair closest to where she sits.

"I know," he murmurs, and somehow that feels like the right thing to say. He makes no apologies, which means that Rey does not have to apologize, and _good_ , because the last thing she wants to do now is to apologize to anybody.

She must have had more than she thought for her to be making these admissions to a man who despises her. A man she despises. The fact that he doesn't seem to be even a _little_ inebriated only irritates her more.

Her chest is heaving, black chest wrap flying up and down with every breath, and Rey clenches her eyes shut. She's swaying in her seat, and she thinks Hux must have noticed because he's moved from his seat to the one beside her, sitting very still as he studies her, and Rey just wants to crawl into the corpse of her AT-AT and cry herself to sleep. She allows herself to think of it, imagines herself there. The quiet, dusty, warm inside of her AT-AT. The dead desert flower plant that Rey had tried so hard to keep alive and failed at like so many things in her life, the first of many failures. She thinks of the scratch marks on the wall, counting her days, endless. She thinks of the rags she used for blankets, and yearns to wrap herself in them again. _That_ had been home for so long. She focuses on the quiet, on the calmness.

And then her body is tilting of its own volition, except in her mind Rey is about to fall into the thin pillow of her makeshift bed, her mind is a little fuzzy with wine, and Rey can't bring herself to think of anything else but that freedom she had known once. Her head hits Hux's shoulder, who has not even twitched.

After a while, Rey thinks she hears the door opening, but she's too tired to open her eyes. Better to be inside her AT-AT. Better to be warm and surrounded by silence and sand and loneliness.

She falls asleep.

* * *

Hux hasn't moved a muscle in ten minutes, and he's starting to feel it in the tensing of his lower back. He had moved without thought when she had looked about ready to fall out of her seat on her face, and now he's stuck propping her up. Rey's head rests balanced precariously on his shoulder and Hux uses the spell of silence to really look at her, then, careful not to jostle her into falling. He's taken by her face when her walls are down and her expression's soft. She looks so much more peaceful that way. Much less like the wild little creature roaming his quarters every day, waiting for a moment to run, or to kill him. So much more like the young girl she is. So very young, he thinks. He'd called for Kylo Ren via a message when Rey had finally taken his seat - which still feels strange to Hux. He'd never shared that space with anybody; yet another boundary crossed - but he had continued to indulge her, letting her keep drinking, and drinking just as much, because the whole thing was severely amusing to him. Rey had gone from just tipsy to absolutely drunk off her feet in a matter of minutes, he didn't even have a buzz. He knew her original intent was to try and get him drunk so she could run. That was clear in the way she had suddenly become so… _sweet_. Rey was not sweet. Not when it came to him. Once she reached top inebriation, she'd basically unleashed on him, and her clothes, and he had had no choice but to stand quietly and let her rage. He has to admit it's almost endearing. Then his eyes fall on the blooms of new welts and bruises and any thought of endearment flees, replaced by consternation.

His mind is wrenched from Rey as his door opens and Ren comes storming through.

"What is it?" Kylo Ren barks in a fury as he stomps his way into his's quarters. Hux raises his eyebrows. He had opened the doors when he sent his message on the data pad, expecting for the man to come, but it is still jarring to see Ren entering his private space like he belonged there. No knock, no pause. The fact that the man is unmasked and looking murderous does not help, leaving him to wonder why the man's so furious.

Hux's eyes travel to Rey, her hair tickling his chin as he turns. Her cheeks are flushed with color from the copious amounts of alcohol she'd consumed, her lips stained a deep red. Hux stares a little longer than necessary before forcing his eyes away with a jerk. The Knight looming in front of them seems to get the hint then, because he's suddenly slowing his steps. Where they were harsh stomping sounds one minute they become deadly silent the next, and he has to do a double take. He didn't know the man could be so graceful and so quiet.

He watches Kylo as he approaches and reaches the side of the couch and studies them, him and the girl; Hux's hands are knitted in front of him, his legs bent at the knee while Rey's head balances on his shoulder, her breathing having switched from jarring hiccups and gasps to a quiet and slow rhythm. Kylo's eyes are trained on her sleeping form and a curious look crosses his face: something like tenderness, but also pain.

"What happened?" Kylo whispers, soft and guarded.

"She tried to get me drunk," Hux says with a slight huff that might have passed for a snort if not for the fact that he was keeping his voice low, tone colored with amusement.

Ren's brows shoot up in the air, "The scavenger did? _Our_ scavenger?"

Hux's gaze presses itself firmly on Ren's face. The man seems to not have noticed what he'd said, how he'd referred to her, as he sits himself across from them.

"I assume she had intentions to escape. Though I imagine if she had kept her wits about her, she would have noticed when I disabled the access lock for you. She also left her food untouched. Not the most effective of her escape attempts so far, though certainly the most creative."

Kylo looks at her again, and another flash of what might pass as pain crosses his face once more. Hux catalogs that look into the depths of his memory for future inspection.

"Exhaustion from combat and lack of food… how much did she have?"

Hux shrugs, "A glass or five…she mostly just downed it straight from the bottle, trying to get me to drink just as much."

Then Kylo is recovering in a flash, something of the smarmy smart-mouth rearing his ugly head.

"The girl tried to take advantage of you, general?" he asks, one boot coming up to rest on the coffee table in front of him. It makes Hux itch. "And you allowed it? I must say… I'm surprised. Who knew she had it in her…Too bad I wasn't here to witness it. You, at the scavenger's heel."

He shoots Ren a leaden glare, that particular mental image slapping Hux across the face, but then he remembers Rey's outburst.

"I don't believe you would have enjoyed it."

Kylo sends him a glance that says he may or may not agree, but then he's looking at Rey curiously once more.

"Why is her shirt missing?" Kylo asks incredulously, though there's a rather dark hint in his voice and Hux nearly laughs. Stupid man.

"She hates the clothes you so thoughtlessly _gifted_ her, so she took them off."

"In front of you?" Kylo blurts out, his voice husky despite the obvious tone of disbelief, pupils expanding only as long as it takes him to blink once more.

Hux nods.

"Talk about an unmannered brat," Kylo comments with a rasp of his throat. _Trying to cover his slip up,_ Hux thinks.

It was quickly becoming clear to him that Kylo Ren's interest in the girl was not all focused on her Force abilities. Yet it's so rare for them to converse calmly this way that Hux finds himself yearning to extend it just a little longer.

"You should have seen her during dinner her first night here."

He does something very unlike himself then; he projects a memory for Kylo to snatch. By the way Kylo's face is taking on the look of horror personified, jaw slightly slack, eyes widening, wide soft lips parted slightly, Hux knows he did indeed take the memory. He smirks. Kylo composes himself after a moment but his eyes are searching Rey almost tenderly and he can't help the feeling that grips his chest, tightening for the duration of that gaze. The minutes stretch on in peaceful stillness, Rey's ribs moving against Hux's arm, noting uncomfortably that he can feel her heartbeat faintly through the layers of his jacket like a softly beating drum.

He lets out a low, long sigh before speaking just above a whisper.

"As much as I am sure you'd love to sit here and watch her all night, Lord Ren, I actually called you here to discuss work." He tilts his head towards Rey once more. "Would you be so kind as to remove her?"

Kylo gives him a hard stare then for daring break the spell but moves quietly nonetheless until he's standing on Rey's other side. When he leans down to wrap one arm around her back protectively and then slowly edge the other under her knees, Kylo's head of thick raven locks fall directly into Hux's view, head coming dangerously low towards his lap when he bends over Rey. Ren's breathing resonates deep in his throat as he makes to hoist the girl up, Hux's nostrils filling with the scent of something spicy and heady coming from the knight, and he has to force himself to focus. He fixes his eyes on the door ahead of him, averting his gaze from Kylo's glossy hair and sharp profile.

Then Ren is getting up slowly, lifting Rey along with her warmth from Hux's side, a frown on his face as he looks at the sleeping girl curled up like a small bundle against his chest. The giant man is cradling her like a precious thing, careful and gentle like he'd never been in the past, and Hux represses the need to worry at his lower lip at the sight, motioning instead towards his bedroom. He's given another stony stare for his efforts, Kylo refusing to move. Irritation sparks inside Hux but he bites down on it, opening the door for Ren to cross through.

The man makes absolutely no move to walk in.

"Why is she being kept in your room, General?"

Kylo's words are measured — immensely measured, Hux notes, considering he had a habit of throwing tantrums — They're low and unaffected, and yet Hux knows exactly what the man's inferring in that tone. That somehow he'd been taking advantage of the girl in Ren's absence. It was the dangerous tone of a man willing to strike if the wrong words were spoken. Hux uses all the willpower he possesses in that moment to contain himself and refrain from snapping. When his words come, they're tinted with their usual shade of derision.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Ren, she sleeps on the couch," he says matter-of-factly, "I would not offer if not for the fact that she'd hear everything from my office while we work tonight. As it stands, if you must know why she's being _kept in my room_ , it's because she's very adept at sneaking out of every other prison cell I've put her in. This seemed to be like the only place I could keep her. Or would you prefer I dumped her in your quarters instead?"

Kylo goes rigid at the suggestion and Hux quirks a brow. Then the block of ice inside Ren's shoulders noticeably chips away slowly as he looks at Rey, carefully cradling her when he turns to bring her inside with long, quiet steps. He hovers over the bed and lowers Rey's small form atop of the sheets on the side where Hux usually sleeps, leaving the redhead to try and avert his eyes despite his muscles refusing to work. The man leans over Rey's head, his face inches away from hers; one long beat, then another, and by the third he's slowly straightening until Hux can no longer see Kylo's breath disturbing the soft hairs framing Rey's temple. Kylo's gloved fingers reach to touch her jaw then, Rey's face falling to the side, facing the wall of black cloth in front of her, but then he stops himself and instead lightly removes a stray lock of hair tumbling down her image will be imprinted on Hux's memory for the rest of his life, though he doesn't know it yet; he's too busy leaning against the doorframe and silently watching these two Force Users and whatever seems to tether them to one another in that single moment of quiet intimacy.

Kylo brings himself to his full height after a heartbeat too long and is then joining Hux by the door, prompting Hux to think of all the catching up they had to do. There is no way other than to state things simply, so he does.

"We destroyed the resistance home base. It was in D'Qar after all." Hux murmurs without preamble. Kylo's eyebrows twitch up with surprise. The rest of their conversation happens in a whisper so as not to wake her.

"You did," he replies, voice curiously empty. Hux gazes at the man standing next to him and reminds himself that whatever monster he could be now, he still had connections to the Resistance. His mother, to be exact, the very same woman commanding about as many men as Hux himself did. His gaze lingers a moment too long.

"We lost our own supply depot, but were able to repay the kindness."

"And how did you manage _that_ , General?" There's a hint of wariness in Kylo's voice, but also curiosity. Hux prickles at the implication that he could not manage anything of consequence on his own, because it's surely what the Knight meant. So, naturally, Hux internally preens at being able to deliver his next words.

"Rey gave us the information, in fact."

Kylo Ren can't hold himself in any longer as he turns and leans forward, perhaps a bit too closely, and deadpans in a low voice.

"She gave you the information."

Hux raises an eyebrow at Ren, but the man refuses to back out of Hux's personal bubble.

"How?" is all he asks, Hux tilting his head so that he can get a perfect view of Kylo Ren's lashes. There's something dangerous in that question. A warning and a threat all wrapped up in one.

"A small gift for a small gift."

Ren frowns, not sure what to do with this tidbit, and Hux refuses to help him figure it out, willing his face into a cool mask of disinterest.

"You _used_ her, General," is all Kylo says after a moment, "They would have destroyed the base either way; we would have scouted D'Qar and routed them out. You used her, Hux."

Hux's eyes linger on Rey's sleeping form, running down the gentle slope of her jawline, watching her chest rise and fall slowly.

"And you haven't?" he murmurs, knowing the answer without needing to receive one. "You were the one who left her to me to be interrogated. One would think you would be happy with this development. In the end, though, she got something she wanted just as much out of the deal, if not necessarily on her terms. You're working with time I borrowed for you, Ren; perhaps a little more gratitude is in order."

Kylo Ren looks at him then, the men exchanging a single meaningful glance before their eyes fall again on the sleeping girl in front of them, each of them thinking of the ways in which they had taken from her, never knowing that some day she would have them both wrapped around her little finger.

"Snoke knew I brought her aboard the Finalizer," Kylo says rather abruptly. Hux looks at the man from the corner of his eye, wondering what prompted the sudden display of trust. Perhaps the Knight of Ren had simply tried to change the subject, though it still was far too close to Rey for comfort where Hux was concerned. "He had me kill, day in and day out without audience, but he knew either way. It's as though her destiny is already written across the stars and he's privy to all of it. I have to believe it will come to pass."

Hux wonders what destiny that was, but by the way Kylo's eyes darken and widen on Rey, Hux has a small inkling of what that destiny would look like. The man beside him had a flair for the dramatic.

Still, something bothers him about this confession, his mind returning to his own audience with Snoke. Then, after a moment's deliberation and despite his better judgement, he opens his thoughts up to Ren, willingly offering up another memory.

"He saw me holding her in my quarters after her attempts at escape. He seemed...amused, by this. Certainly pleased, at least. He also seemed to already know about it when he plucked at my thoughts, or at least, it seemed that way back then when he dismissed my question. He made it look as though you had already informed him."

Kylo turns his head to look at him, flashes of something utterly terrifying crossing those dark, beautiful eyes, his jaw hard, a vein popping at his temple.

"I had not."

The revelation dawns on Hux just as hard as it must be dawning on the First Knight because Ren's gaze hardens to Onyx.

Snoke had played them both.

Hux returns his gaze to Rey with a soft, low hum in the back of his throat, the look on Kylo's eyes prompting a dull ache in him that he refuses to examine.

"Makes one wonder how many other things the Supreme Leader has kept from us both," he murmurs.

In that moment, a small, treacherous seed plants itself deep in both their psyches. They stand there for a long time, their meeting having come to a close on its own accord.

* * *

What do you think? Please review!

Author's note: I hope you all enjoyed Rey's drunken rant. I have changed the rating of this story to T until it calls for a rating change to M, which WILL happen, but considering how FFN works, I figured might as well wait until the explicit M stuff comes around ;)

A thanks to the lovely Capri! I'm glad you enjoyed how I write Hux. He's seriously a joy to write in all his put-upon glory, haha. Thanks for commenting, hon 3


	10. Kuat

There's a sound coming from his bedroom. The girl has just woken up. It is still ungodly early, overhead lights dim except for the small lamp shining on his desk, and he's surprised at her rising so early. Not that Hux has gotten any sleep either, sitting in his office going through piles' worth of documents through the night, his third cup of kaf sitting cold and half empty on his desk.

He'd gone into the room just long enough to change into more comfortable clothes after Ren had taken his leave, silently stepping wide around the bed on his way into his closet, eyes averted from the sleeping form splayed across his bed. He'd grabbed a pair of loose slate grey sweatpants and a black long-sleeved t-shirt and thrown them on quickly in the dark before padding back out of the room and into his office. If he was going to work through the night he would do it in comfort.

The noises keep coming, this time from the living room — grunts and banging of furniture and muttered curses — which he only half minds, his eyes running down a rather long weapons requisition document he'd received earlier that morning. He tugs the sleeves up his forearms until they rest just under his elbows and sighs. He'd have to check in with supply and find an exact number of items lost during the Resistance raid, then schedule a trip to Kuat to place in another order with the KDY. Hux cringes internally at this. Dealing with the Kuati is not his idea of fun, nor a fair deal, but it would be necessary. He could go with another manufacturer, of course, but the Kuati had been making his First Order ships for years now and always delivered nothing short of excellence, though not without a hefty price tag and a rather haughty attitude. For the excellence alone he would bite his tongue and make the compromise. They had managed fine after the depot got blown up to pieces, but wear and tear between trips, as well as damages obtained during missions, were starting to cut into their supply if this requisition was anything to go by. He would also need to place commissions for more ships now that Starkiller's been destroyed. He'd have to make that trip soon. Sooner than he had intended, certainly.

 _Thump._

Rey lets out a string of rather colorful curses with a scream loud enough to float to his office; a few of them words he doesn't understand though he's certain they're just as bad as the ones he does understand the meaning of, if not worse. Hux's lips twitch into a slight smirk around his cigarette, eyes never leaving the documents in front of him. She's as foul mouthed as she's temperamental, which somehow surprises him exactly not one bit. He turns in his seat and types in a memo to supply to request a count of all weapons currently onboard all First Order ships, as well as any checked out for missions. If he's lucky, the numbers would not exceed the amount they currently had sitting in their coffers, though if bad came to worse he could always ask the Supreme Leader about funding. That thought makes him cringe. He doesn't like being indebted to anyone.

Just as he hits send Rey storms out from the living room with loud stomps and barrels right into his office, hair buns looking like little bird nests, strands sticking up in all directions, clothes rumpled - she had managed to find her shirt, he notes - her stare askance and pinned straight on him.

He lowers his cigarette from his lips, letting out the smoke through his lips softly and slowly, and brings his eyes up to meet hers. His head tilts slightly as he takes in her flushed cheeks and deep frown.

"Why was I in your bed?" Rey demands, tone acidic, chin jutted forward and shoulders squared.

 _Well, good morning to you too, scavenger._

She's favoring her left foot— by the scream she let out, she'd probably stubbed it — and her arms are crossed over her chest, small hands wrapped into fists. Hux says nothing, his eyes returning to her face. The longer he stays silent the redder the bloom in her chest becomes, the more she juts out her chin, the faster her eyes narrow. He knows he's pushing his luck while he counts the heartbeats it would take her to explode, purposely letting his eyes travel up and down her lithe frame. Just as her lips part, no doubt to deliver a litany of death threats, Hux lets his eyebrows raise all the way up his forehead.

"Do you not remember last night?"

Oh, but his words _incensed_ her!

Good. That'll teach her to get drunk off her feet on an enemy ship.

Hux isn't sure why he keeps trying to push her buttons, but he does nonetheless. Perhaps it is because he is tired and crabby already, or perhaps it is as repayment for her serious lack of judgement in trying to inebriate him - not that it helped her any - or, and this Hux would never allow himself to agree with, it's because she looks so appealing when she is flushed and flustered. A time bomb waiting to go off and he with the power to deactivate it or let it burn everything to the ground, including him. Now that she's sober and back in her senses, he'd allow himself the moment.

"Should I?" she barks, eyes glinting ferociously in the light of his lamp as she takes a step forward, "Is there anything in specific I should be aware of before I take your head off for it?"

Hux's eyebrows do go up of their own volition at the threat.

 _Still the same volatile little wild thing..._

Then he _tsk's_.

"Manners, girl. Threatening your host is no way to worm your way into his graces," he replies, voiced to indifference as he returns to his work with renewed purpose, "I did not touch you, nor did anyone else for that matter, if that's where your unfortunate little mind has gone to."

When she says nothing, he narrows his eyes. This time, he decides to toy with her like a cat with a trapped mouse. On purpose.

"Though I must say, the spectacle you put on last night should be enough for _you_ to perhaps hide your own head somewhere."

He projects to her, then, knowing she can't avoid taking the image like Ren can. He projects his thoughts so hard she stumbles back a half a step towards the door, the memory of her half naked tantrum hitting her like a jackhammer between the eyebrows. He glances up at her for a satisfied second through thick eyelashes, his head still bowed, and is rewarded with the utter shock and horror streaking past her eyes. Not only was she an angry, sad drunk, but apparently she was also the kind to not remember anything after the fact. He'd have to remember to keep wine out of her reach from now on.

She takes another step forward, a far more controlled one, and begins fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, all anger having drained out of her in one fell swoop. He doesn't need to be able to read minds like she and Kylo Ren do to see the absolute mortification streaking past her face. Apparently she didn't know she was an angry, sad drunk with a predisposition to not remember a thing, either.

"I—" she starts, then seems to think better of it. The silence goes on for a few more seconds. Hux keeps his eyes on his paperwork, the very picture of a busy man.

"My apologies, General," Rey mutters. Her voice is steady and there's no hint whatsoever of actual remorse in her tone at having tried to play him, or take his head off. He regards her with thoughtful yet bright eyes.

 _Hm…Good girl._

She's learning after all. That alone keeps him from baiting her any further or reprimanding her for her previous actions. Instead he offers a helpful hint.

"Perhaps next time try something other than alcohol. I have a high tolerance to it. You can't seem to hold your own very well."

He's dismissed her, then, returning his attention to his work fully as he types another missive, expecting her to walk out. She doesn't.

Instead she strolls bravely the rest of the way in until she's standing in front of him on the other side of his desk, giving him one hard glare, daring him to turn her out. He doesn't. He's curious, and he won't deny that he's still half amused by this whole situation. Her presence offers is a small reprieve from the tedium of thinking about ships and guns, despite the fact that his eyes are trained on his screen.

Rey drops herself into the chair opposite him and brings her legs up, resting her hands on her knees, chin on the back of her hands. She reminds him of a toddler, making herself small, watching him carefully.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"Working," he replies matter-of-factly, the fast flight of his fingers making quick work of missive after short missive.

"No, really? And here I thought the uptight general tried to relax every once in a while."

A half snort, half chortle escapes him at her flippant remark. He was quickly learning that Rey and hangovers didn't mix; her claws come out. Sharp little claws looking for anything to dig themselves into… preferably him. Hux doesn't mind.

When he says nothing, she makes yet another remark that takes him by surprise.

"I want my own room."

He _does_ look at her then. His eyes force themselves off his screen and travel very slowly to her face. He remembers how she'd ordered him to drink not but five hours prior, and now she's _demanding_ her own space.

The little wild thing has a bossy streak.

"What makes you think I would agree to such a thing?"

He knows he can't keep her in his rooms forever. She's a _prisoner_ after all, despite whatever warped sense of…comfort? No, something else. He knows he can't keep her, despite whatever it is he derives from having someone else in his space.

Strange, Hux muses, detaching himself from the thought and analyzing it with clinical precision.

He had never been a man to enjoy company; had craved solitude, in fact. There was time to think in solitude, space to think; time to plan, to lay out his steps far into the future. Such things could not be done with company prattling at his ear. Yet he had to admit that having someone there to dine with and, every once in a while, even converse pleasantly with outside of work held its own appeal, for what that was worth.

 _It wouldn't even have to be the scavenger,_ he promises himself, wondering if he could replace Rey at dinner with Phasma instead.

"I refuse to wake up in your bed again, General, whatever the situation. We may continue playing host and guest, but if I am to remain aboard this blasted ship for Maker knows how long," or until she escapes again, Hux thinks wryly while Rey continues, "I would like my own space. You can either afford another room or send me back to a cell."

He laughs, partly at her demand and partly at his own wayward thought about dinners, of all things.

A small voice in his head chimes that he also knows he would never behave with anyone else the way he had allowed himself to be around Rey, lax and nearly… _domestic_.

Hux shakes his head just as Rey opens her mouth to retort. He shelves his musings for later.

"So my options are to give you free run of my ship from a room you can leave at your leisure, or have you escape from a cell we obviously know you can sneak your way out from? Not much of a choice, Rey. I don't think so."

She stiffens by degrees at his words, arms going tense and knees drawing closer to her body, but she purses her lip defiantly in a way that draws his attention a little too long.

"You're the one who said my presence here has allowed for too many people to wander in and out of your quarters uninvited," she counters.

He hums, studying her for a heartbeat.

He _had_ said something to that effect.

"If you hate my quarters so much, perhaps we can move you in under Kylo Ren's care in _his_ quarters," he offers with a patient smile, and his offer is immediately set on fire and discarded by Rey when she narrows her eyes at him into slits.

"Or not…"

She holds him there, refusing to look away. Searching for any weakness in his armor.

"You're still a prisoner," he bites back a sigh, "I can't let you go about wandering."

How could he? After all, access to a personal room meant also access to the locking mechanism, and he _knew_ she would immediately take it upon herself to leave the room and go wandering about the ship, potentially breaking things.

Then a thought crosses his mind and he purses his lips, bringing up two fingers to rest in the jut of his bottom one. Rey's eyes fly to his fingers and linger for a moment before moving back up to his eyes, her gaze stern and her brows furrowed.

"What?" she demands. He tilts his head, realizing in that instant that the girl in front of him had been learning to read him a little too well, unsure of whether he's irritated or pleased by it.

A thought for another time.

"Perhaps…" he murmurs, mostly for his own benefit, turning his new idea in his mind. It could work, he thinks. It would require lessons, first and foremost — a _lot_ of lessons — and there was little time but maybe… .

"What?" she insists again.

Hux prides himself in being an excellent teacher.

"Tell you what, perhaps we can make a deal."

To say that Rey's glare is _unfriendly_ is perhaps the biggest understatement of the year, but she sits still and listens, and that's all he really needs from her.

"You give me something to prove that I can trust you with this arrangement of yours you seem so insistent on," he starts, and her lips turn down into a frown, so he smiles. "And I agree to your demands in turn."

"What, another small gift for a small gift?" she asks, a hard but blessedly considering edge.

He gives her a dazzling smile tinged with pride, one so rarely given to anyone, even to himself; by the way her brows twitch in confusion and her eyes wander from his eyes to his lips, he can see her mind's gears turn. That brain of hers was truly a delight.

He gets right to business. Better to bring someone in with honey than vinegar.

"Your beloved rebels pulverized a large amount of weapons that we could not move within the short notice of their attack," he provides by mean of explanation and Rey flinches. He lets it go, his mind focused on something else. "And I need weapons."

Rey's frown deepens.

"I don't know how to build guns, General."

Hux shakes his head in amusement.

"Silly girl, I want no such thing from you," he offers, "but I _could_ use your assistance with procuring more. And ships, since you so gracefully destroyed Starkiller. We are woefully under-supplied and I need to resupply my men desperately."

"How?" Rey asks, all business as well. He liked that about her. She could switch on a dime much like he could, and it made the process so much easier. No time wasted having to explain himself over and over.

She obviously doesn't like the idea of aiding her enemy by the way her lips take a downward turn, but it seems the promise of her own personal space - even in captivity - is a good enough draw. A compromise he could make.

"I must travel to Kuat to place an order," he explains, "They are the builders of our ships as well as our weapons. An excellent manufacturer. They are also incredibly difficult to deal with unfortunately."

"How so?" Rey asks.

A twinge of annoyance coils in the back of his neck as he remembers previous dealings with the Kuati. It only strengthens when memories of having to practically shout to be heard surface from where he'd tried to bury them.

"They're a matriarchal society, and as such, the words of men are very rarely taken…seriously," Hux knows for a fact the women have tried to get more money out of deals with him by playing on the fact that his power held absolutely no sway over the Kuati council; his arguments, no matter how well crafted, would always fall on deaf ears. He's about to speak when Rey fills in for him.

"So you want me to negotiate on your behalf," she states.

 _Clever little wild thing._

He gives her a curt nod and offers her a tiny smile.

"And in exchange you'll grant me a room of my own."

Hux nods once more, allowing her to consider.

"No."

He blinks. A second passes in which he has to repeat that word in his mind to truly understand it.

"What did you say?" he asks, trying and nearly failing to hide his incredulity.

"I said no, General," she bites.

"And why is that? Weren't you the one begging for your own quarters not but a moment ago?" he asks, bringing his nearly finished cigarette back to his lips and taking a long drag, waiting for her answer as he holds in smoke. She watches the motion carefully but betrays nothing.

"You want me to help _arm you_ , get you even more ships, negotiate on behalf of a group of people who believe in everything I do not, and your payment is a room?" She asks, voice reaching an incredulous high pitch as her remark ends and then drops, "The answer is no."

He can only watch as she speaks, much like he had during her little angry rampage earlier, and somewhere inside of him there's a small little gauge of respect that ticks a few notches up. He tilts his head and blows smoke up to the side and away from them both in a cloud of gauzy white smoke.

"What would you like in exchange, then?" he asks, ever the businessman.

He could do the negotiations without her, surely, but now that the idea has planted itself in his brain it is rather difficult to let it go. Having a woman to negotiate amongst a matriarchal culture and female driven corporation would give him both the advantage of a speedy transaction and perhaps, the chance to gain more than he would were he to do it on his own. For far less, even. He has plenty of women aboard his ship, sure — Lt. Savoy comes to mind — but they are soldiers and officers and would never meet the level of mental dexterity he would need, and the one who potentially could, Captain Phasma, Hux would need aboard the ship as the last commander left to run the Finalizer in his absence. Rey had that mental dexterity, however. This one would be a rather important transaction, considering the length of pages sitting on his data pad. It would certainly be a benefit to him. What could she ask for in return that he couldn't _possibly_ provide?

"I want my freedom."

 _I stand corrected,_ Hux thinks wryly.

"You want your freedom." He deadpans.

Rey tilts her chin up defiantly.

"I am pretty sure handing over the upper hand to the _opposition_ in battles to come would be plenty to earn me that, General. I assure you the D'Qar base had been far more important to the Resistance than your base had been to you. You were, after all, ready to sacrifice it. I can't say that General Organa could have said the same thing about her own."

He leans back in his chair, watching her, eyes slightly narrowed as he gives her a considering once over. He thumbs the butt of his cigarette in his left hand, small tendrils of smoke wafting up to his nose. Every word she says had been true, and he is pleasantly surprised to know that she had seen through his power play with the D'Qar base. She had also learned from it well, by the way she was negotiating for her freedom. He isn't sure why this specific discovery pleases him, but can't help the small wave of satisfaction riding close to his chest. Hux notes her obvious omission of her hand in blowing up Starkiller base with amusement.

Still, he can't let her just walk out; Ren would have his head on a spike over it in a second, and he appreciates having his head attached to the rest of his body, yet having her negotiate on his behalf would make his life so much easier. He goes for the middle of the road instead.

"I'll consider it," he says and her eyes start to spark a little. He holds up a hand immediately. " _If_ you do well, and I mean _very_ well, I'll begin negotiations for your release. I cannot promise you your freedom, it cannot come from me, but I will keep my word if you keep yours. _If_ you do well, mind you."

Rey frowns, immediately disliking the added stipulations.

"And if I don't? Do well, I mean…"

"Then it will have been no different than me having to negotiate with the Kuati women and we're back to square one. You remain my guest."

Rey snorts. She's clearly unhappy with this, but then she gives a curt nod of acquiesce. A promise of negotiations for her freedom is far more than she'd had to work with the previous night, resorting to _alcohol_ to try and pry her freedom out of his fingers. It certainly was more. It meant winning with a temporary ally on her side who's good enough to potentially achieve gaining her a ticket out of First Order captivity. He'd defer to Ren for her release, and that would render his end of the bargain fulfilled.

Hux uncurls his fingers, stretching them out towards her for her to shake. She glares at his hand — a habit of hers, he's noticed — but then gingerly laces her own fingers around his palm, warm and calloused from years of hard work. They shake to their agreement and then she's dropping his hand like it's a hot poker and it burns. Business deal made, he turns back to his work.

Rey just sits in her chair and watches him quietly, having returned to her previous sitting position, legs bent and arms on knees, and Hux makes it a point not to look back up unless prompted to.

The hours pass in comfortable silence.

Perhaps comfort was the word he had been looking for after all.

* * *

 _Did you hear? I heard that girl stunned ten troopers that first time she escaped!_

 _No way, are you shitting me?_

 _Crazy, right? She barely got caught._

 _Man, she's dangerous._

 _..._

 _So, I heard from Grip that when they caught her the second time she was almost naked as sin! Grip was in the General's detail that day._

 _No way, is she pretty?_

 _Beautiful, they said, but she's also wild. Managed to down a trooper and get out of her cell somehow._

 _Man, that's wild._

 _..._

 _Did you hear?!_ Apparently _the general brings her flowers every day - that lady from the kitchens, yeah, the pudgy redhead one - she was telling anyone who would listen about the feasts he organizes every day and brings to her._

 _So you think they're doing it?_

 _Must be. He now requests new flowers for his apartments instead of Phasma doing it._

 _Must like 'em feisty, the General does._

 _..._

 _Yo, Hunt! Were you at the hangar when Kylo Ren arrived today?_

 _Ugh, no. Don't mention it anywhere loud, okay? I heard from Kit who heard it from FN-3476 - What's his nickname? Tank? Yeah, him — that it was crazy._

 _What do you mean? I heard the whispers._

 _Man, that girl managed to bring the man to his_ kriffing _knees bleeding! Big_ ol _' gushes. She's strong, that one, though she doesn't look it._

 _I would have killed to see that, man!_

The whispers start immediately. They catch like wildfire and raze through the ship in record time. Hux had known that troopers were a gossipy bunch, despite his best efforts to recondition such an annoying habit out of them as his father had once, but it had done little to remove the basic human instinct to talk. So this time he'd use their annoying habits to his benefit.

At first the murmurs started slowly, quietly, when she was dumped aboard the ship, intensifying after she managed to successfully escape her cells twice, thrumming amongst the troops once Hux had been forced to put her in his rooms, the tale cheerfully retold by the four stormtroopers who had been on his detail that day they found her mid-escape, gun in hand and looking doe eyed in the bright lights of the hall. He hadn't heard the rumors personally, but he'd heard about enough of them, and every rumor became more incredible than the last.

By the time Kylo Ren had arrived on board the gossiping had traveled at hyper speed.

That morning alone he'd caught stormtroopers mid-sentence twice regarding the situation on the hangars the day before. In this version, Kylo Ren is hit so bad with a wrench that supposedly there's a new crack on his helmet. He calls Phasma into his office to discuss it that morning.

The Captain is in the middle of reassuring him that she would address the problem when he shakes his head and stops her sentence short. It could quickly become a spiraling problem if the troops saw Rey undermining his and Kylo Ren's authority—

— _or_ , his mind supplies, _it can establish her as somebody of equal power._

Isn't that what he wants, eventually? An equally powerful ally when the time comes to turn the tides and this war. Word of a girl named Rey, able to match both Ren's power and Hux's smarts, yet still deferential to both, would soon start making it aboard other ships and amongst other troops. Snoke would see it as success on Hux's part when he heard of it, surely, and it would all be as Hux needs it to be. So long as the Supreme Leader thinks everything is going according to his wishes Hux would be free to act under the radar. He'd need that cover for what he was about to do after Kuat.

" _Sir_ ," comes the voice of his captain, obviously confused at all of the seemingly haphazard decisions Hux has been making lately, all of which are the very, very opposite of anything Hux had ever done in the past. Phasma reaches up and decompresses her helmet in the privacy of his office, a short crop of platinum hair falling out of the metal thing. Hux is used to this. Phasma is all professionalism in public, but she does allow herself a few moments' indiscretion in private, and Hux is more than happy to give her the small courtesy. He can only imagine that those helmets are anything but comfortable. This time when she speaks, her voice is human and far more delightful than the helmet would ever let on. This was friend Phasma, not Captain Phasma.

"Bren, what are you playing at?" she asks, propping the helmet on Hux's desk delicately as she lowers herself to a chair.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"The girl. I mean what are you playing at with the girl? Keeping her in your rooms, dining with her nightly — and I assure you the kitchen staff is talking. _Loudly_. — letting her shadow you, allowing her in on important situations. Isn't she a spy? I thought for all intents and purposes she's still Lord Ren's prisoner."

Hux raises an eyebrow.

"I can assure you, Phas, this is not a game. It can be just about everything else, but I'm not _playing_ with the girl." He retorts, immediately slipping into her nickname as he had done so many times during their training at the academy. Their friendship was a private thing. Few people outside of this office knew they were even acquaintances outside of a work scenario, much less close confidantes.

Phasma doesn't miss the heaviness of the one word and her brows rise, a small smirk slipping into the pale face, pearly teeth showing.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course not!"

They're no longer talking about playing tactical games. He clears his throat with an annoyed rasp. That's the second implication that he's fraternizing with the girl in less than twenty four hours.

"She's not a spy, though I believe she'd _like_ to be. She stashes any bit of information she can somewhere in that little mind of hers," he provides and Phasma snorts.

"I saw her staring at the controls on the bridge the other day."

Hux snorts in turn, "Somehow, I'm entirely unsurprised. She's whip smart and opportunistic to the core, that one. But no, she's not a spy. I would have dealt swiftly with her if she had been, you know that. I assure you all my decisions are made in exchange for a greater prize, Phasma."

As expected of Phasma, she narrows her eyes. She wouldn't be his Captain if he didn't believe her to be as smart at running her troops as he is at running the order.

"The girl."

"The very same," he agrees. "She's strong in more ways than one, though she doesn't know it yet, and that could aid us in the future."

"That's why you evacuated," She adds.

He nods. Phasma drums two fingers on her chrome-covered thigh, beating a soft metallic beat against the fingers of her gauntlet.

"So… Let the rumors run their course or encourage them?"

Hux grins.

The stormtroopers were her children, and as such, she knew exactly which buttons to push. No, she wouldn't be his Captain otherwise. Oh, Hux runs ships and makes big decisions, but when it comes to the troops, it is Phasma who leads. The men would follow her to the death, and they would eat up just about anything she gave them.

"You know what to do, though I would appreciate giving those rumors a…guiding hand, if you will."

She nods. They sit in comfortable silence for a minute longer. Then Phasma does as only Phasma ever could; she gives her opinion without being asked for it. With a smirk, of all things. The woman's smirk could match his.

"I spoke with her for a few moments after her training session with Kylo Ren. She's stubborn and reckless. Her temper could easily match Lord Ren's _and_ yours. She also seems to be rather adept at eliciting behaviors from you both that I would not call very worthy of commanders."

Hux rolls his eyes hard, making sure she notes the motion, though he knows there is truth to what she says. Phasma's particularly good at reading people. Her lips jerk up.

"You may not be playing with her, but you're playing with fire, Bren."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Phasma picks up her helmet and dons it, returning to the amazon of chrome that everyone else knows and respects.

"Anything I can do to be of assistance, Sir," she offers.

Hux nods. He would need that assistance later. Phasma salutes and exits, then, leaving him to his thoughts.

* * *

He stands on the bridge hours later, watching impassively as his crew goes about their daily routine. Moments later he feels a looming presence by his right arm. He doesn't turn to look. He doesn't have to.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence on the bridge this early, Lord Ren?" He asks, voice calm and low enough to not disturb the crew as they go about their business.

Not that it matters. The man has a magnetic aura of darkness around him that makes all eyes snap up to see the man striding in. Kylo stands next to Hux, the sound of mechanical breathing filtering through his modulator.

"A word, General."

Hux's temple throbs. What now? He's tired and the last thing he needs right now is another display in front of his officers. So he extends his arm to Ren to guide him forward and quickly makes his way towards the secluded office to the back of the bridge where Hux usually works. Once inside, he lets the door fall closed when the last edges of Kylo Ren's robes flow through.

"Yes?" Hux asks impatiently.

Kylo Ren hesitates in his silence, something so uncommon for the man that's proven to be so willful in the past.

"The scavenger," he states, finally, as if those two words should tell Hux with absolute certainty what Ren wanted. He reins in the need to roll his eyes, but sprints up to meet the opportunity. It saved him having to approach Ren, and having this conversation on his turf made it that much easier.

"Glad you bring her up," Hux replies, "There's been a new development. I must make it to Kuat to procure more ships and weapons. I could use your presence there."

There's a soft creak of leather as Kylo's fingers stretch and contract. The motion holds no danger, Hux thinks as he watches Kylo's tell. He's considering this.

"Why would I _possibly_ want to come to Kuat?" Ren finally asks, "Ship and Weaponry procurement does not fall under my jurisdiction, even if I do hold a command. And what does that have to do with the scavenger."

Hux shrugs, " _Rey_ will be the one negotiating on our behalf."

Kylo stands an inch and a half taller than Hux yet is somehow overbearingly _large_ as he seems to swallow up the entirety of the room by being in it. In that moment the man is a brick wall boxing him in.

"She's negotiating on _our_ behalf?" Kylo asks, disbelieving, his head turning left infinitesimally. Then, because Kylo Ren is as quick as Hux himself is, Hux hates to admit, he follows with: "What did you offer her?"

"A room of her own, you'll be happy to know," Hux admits, "and she turned it down immediately despite it having been _her_ demand to begin with."

Kylo remains unmoving, obviously waiting for the second shoe to drop.

"So instead I offered her her freedom."

 _That_ elicits a response from the Knight of Ren. A physical one.

It always surprises Hux how Kylo Ren can turn as if switched on or off, going from morose to deadly in the span of a batted eyelash. The knight stalks forward, closing the already minimal space between them, so close now that Hux can inspect his close shave on the visor. He has to stretch his neck back in order to gain a small sense of personal space, not that it helps much.

"Absolutely not," Ren barks, his modulator making it sound animalistic and raw, fingers inching towards the holster under his robes for his saber.

"Control yourself, Lord Ren," He warns the man before him before Ren can start inflicting damage to his office, "The offer came with very specific stipulations."

"Such as?" Ren asks, the growl in his metallic voice hard to ignore.

"That she would need to do very well in her negotiations, for one," he says, "and that I would not be the one to grant her that freedom. Since she is technically _your_ prisoner, Ren, her release would be up to you. By telling you this right now I am upholding my end of the bargain: initiating negotiations. The rest is up to you."

Ren takes his helmet off to get a better look at him, throwing it on Hux's desk. There's a hiss of decompression as the front of his mask angles up and the helmet comes off. Despite having seen this done repeatedly, it never fails to take Hux aback at how perfect his hair always seems to fall out from under that bucket of metal. Some people were blessed with a little too much. He knows there'll be a dent where it was placed. The thing is far heavier than it looks, far heavier than Phasma's.

"Why would you offer her such a thing without my explicit permission to do so? In case you've forgotten, General, she's _my_ charge. " Kylo demands, a dangerous flash slanted across his features.

"Yes, because you've been doing such a spectacular job at it, Ren." He barbs, then takes a deep breath. Instigating the man now would only earn him his death, "I was thinking quickly on my feet. She's eager to get away from us both and would allow for no other arrangement, but freedom renders her cooperative. There's also the fact that if I must deal with a skittish girl, the least she and _you_ can do is help me procure more ships and weapons," Hux replies curly, though his mind focuses a little too fondly on the quiet dinners and the calm moments when he brings up her particular skittishness.

He feels the brush of Ren's power on his mind a second too late and, before he can build up his defenses or even so much as snarl at him for the attempt, Ren has snatches the thought like a low hanging fruit plucked off a tree. The look in Ren's eyes sends a sliver of apprehension down his back. The man now had a memory of something even Hux himself had refused to look at tenderly for so long. It makes him bristle.

"Careful, Hux, that your personal interests do not interfere with my missions," Kylo drawls.

The sound of his own words on Ren's lips make the small hairs on his back stand up straight.

 _Irritating little—_

"They do not interfere, and we both gain from this. Or are your goals for this galaxy not the same as mine any longer? She will do as she's told and her freedom is up to you." At this, he raises his eyebrows, "Or do you really believe that keeping her caged aboard this ship like a common household pet will in any way convince her to see things your way, Ren?"

Kylo doesn't miss a beat with his retort, "Are you trying to tell me you're not doing the exact same thing, General?"

 _We're at an impasse then._

He changes tactics.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to dedicate to her training, Lord Ren," he offers, "As I must begin my lectures with her to ensure she's prepared. I am scheduling take-off to Kuat in a week's time, and the trip will take two weeks there even in hyperspace. If you'll allow me, I will bring in a ship with accommodations for your… _sessions_ … while we're on our way, as long as you promise not to destroy anything."

Kylo is deadly still. He seems to be weighing in the benefits of having Rey to himself for two weeks - obviously discounting Hux from the equation, but Hux could live with that - against the potential run-in with her about her freedom. Hux puts him at ease then, even if he doesn't need to.

"If she fails at negotiating for more than what I myself could, nothing changes and she's still my guest." Kylo's jaw immediately starts tensing with clenched teeth, so Hux is quick to add: "I offered to move her to your quarters but she didn't seem to be very open to that."

"No. No, she wouldn't be," Kylo murmurs.

He notes it with curiosity - Kylo Ren was not one known to agree with him over anything - before continuing.

"Allowing her off this ship even once might make her more amenable to working with us if she feels less like a prisoner. Give her a sense of purpose. She had been eager to learn." He takes a deep breath, "You gain more from a person if you give them something to strive for, Ren. Give her something to want to work on, one that does not involve trying to destroy the Finalizer so she can get away from it."

Kylo says nothing, determined to imitate a rock in the way he sits unmoving. Hux sighs.

"She's smart, but the Kuati are shrewd - you know this - there's a very real possibility you won't have to worry about setting her loose. And who knows, perhaps by the end of this, we will have swayed her," His voice comes softer than he intended.

The look that Kylo gives him is something between sadness and hard determination. Determined to what, exactly? The man looks so, so tired. Not the kind of tired that could be quickly fixed with a nap. No, this is the kind of tired that runs bone deep, aching and throbbingly painful, the kind you can't shake off with any amount of kaf or rest, the kind that followed you around like a black cloud. His eyes look tired, drained, and Hux imagines what it would be like to run his thumb over those dark circles to smooth them over.

 _Perhaps,_ Hux thinks, _Ren draws comfort from her presence, too._

It is one of those rare moments when the layers of mistrust and strife peel back from the two men who share it, standing in silence in the small office of a ship floating in the darkness of space. It is a strange sensation for both of them to quietly agree over anything when they had never before agreed on a single issue, so they let the moment wash over them and sink into their bones for a moment longer.

"What is your interest in her, Hux? Or are you just using her to get back in Snoke's graces?" Kylo says, stare dead, icy.

"Feeling threatened?" Hux deadpans.

The knight glares, fingers twitching around an invisible lightsaber, and Hux lets out a rather showy, pained sigh for Ren's benefit if not his own.

"Perhaps I just enjoy the challenge as much as you, Ren."

Kylo narrows his gaze and holds his there, unwilling to let him recant or shy away from the answer he'd provided, a mistrustful glint in his eye.

It lasts long enough to make him uncomfortable, to start doubting if he should have tried to calm the Knight in front of him. In hindsight Hux knew that his words of comfort had also sounded a little too wishful for their own good. The whole time he had addressed their situation as "us" not "you" — working with us, he had said, not working with you. We will have swayed her. He nearly wants to slap himself.

Kylo nods sharply, abruptly straightening up.

"I will train her in the mornings when she's at her peak strength, and you may instruct her afterwards, any other time you prefer."

 _We have an agreement._

A precarious one, Hux thinks, but one nonetheless.

"General," Kylo states as he departs, snatching his helmet from the desk and placing it calmly over his head. A parting acknowledgement.

"Lord Ren," He returns.

Hux looks at his desk then and sighs. Sure as the stars shine, there, small but visible, is a small knick imprinted into the hard wood.

* * *

 **What did you think? please review!**

 **Author's note:** First, a huge thanks to True Truffle and AbohorrentPandemonium for your lovely messages. I'm so happy you guys are enjoying my characterisation of these guys, and especially have become fond of Hux. That means a lot to me!

Second, here's a new chapter! I hope you guys like it.

 **GLOSSARY:**

Kuat / Kuat Drive Yards \- A Neutral world ruled by The Ten Families, matriarchal by nature and also mostly a shipbuilding world. They are known for building the Empire's star destroyers, which I am now extending to the first order. For the sake of ADOT, they're also producing guns. ;)


	11. Elegant Fingers

Thank you guys for your feedback so far! I'm glad you're enjoying it! ONWARD!

Summary: There's an image of long, elegant fingers circulating around. Literally everybody is uncomfortable.

* * *

It had started with a shrill thrum of the bond, halting Kylo mid-step in a complicated Ataru leap that nearly sheared his leg off when his saber came down the wrong way, barely able to correct himself to avoid irreparable damage. An echo of something sharp and drowsy started flowing into him the second Rey's meager mental defenses failed, and all he could feel was a drunken agitation that left him perfectly incapable of returning to his training, then he'd received a message over his personal comm. It had been short and sweet:

 _We have work to do. - Hux._

He'd dismissed it, deciding that the summons could wait until after he checked in on Rey, when a second message had followed immediately at the previous one's heels:

 _Rey. My rooms. Now. - Hux_

He'd bolted from where he'd been practicing his stances in the training room then, lungs jammed in his trachea. Was she sick? Hux's hurried comm message combined with Rey's drunken agitation flowing through the bond, becoming sharper by the minute, sent Kylo into the darkest depths of his mind — Drowning. Internal Wounds. Head trauma. Poison.

He'd sent a couple of troopers flying with the Force when they didn't move from his path fast enough. The troopers scrambled up behind him and ran away as fast as their legs could carry them, happy to just have been spared much worse though long forgotten in his haste, and the crowds along the halls parted like the seas everywhere his stomping stride rang.

By the time he'd entered Hux's room he'd been worked up into a fury.

"What is it?"

And—

Rey was leaning up against Hux, looking small and defeated and covered in so many bruises and welts that Kylo had recoiled internally, knowing he'd administered all of them. Her shirt was missing, giving him a perfect view of all the purplish black and yellow bruises, barely registering the fact that she was half naked, sagging into the man at her side and dozing off in the bond.

"What happened?" he'd whispered when he felt her truly succumb to exhaustion.

Soon enough he was being regaled with the most ridiculous story about her trying to escape through drinking Hux under the table and he had been amused only up until the point when he realized this too was his fault.

"Exhaustion from combat and lack of food… how much did she have?"

His eyes traveled to the jumbo bottle of wine tipped off on the floor, empty.

She'd nearly downed enough to knock a grown man out. Hux only confirmed it.

He'd tried to cover up the fact that he'd been left reeling from these realizations yet the way Hux studied at him, an open book in front of a man for whom very few could hold a secret, left little room in his mind that the redhead had seen right through him.

A series of small movements, short sentences, and he'd been setting her down on Hux's bed. He itched to touch her this way, with her eyes closed and her face slack and all the anger and hatred she felt towards him drained from an otherwise beautiful face. The face he'd chased for weeks, the freckles he'd begun tracing constellations on for months, the face behind the thoughts he now carried around him like a second piece of himself. He's so close, so _delightfully close_ , that his breath disturbs the soft baby hairs across her temples. But this is not for him to take. So instead he rearranges a lock of her hair when her face falls to meet his.

Another episode of shared glances between the only other man who had seen her in her quiet, in her peace, then the conversation had turned to Hux's original message: work. And a small realization had come out of that which had put Kylo on a collision course with himself. He'd taken his leave after nearly an hour of two men standing there silently, each lost to their own particular train of thought, and made it to his room where he inevitably set to agonizing over both Rey and that small lie Hux and Kylo had caught his master in before collapsing out of sheer exhaustion.

Hours later, Kylo had woken up in the darkness of his room to a strange emotion nestling in his chest. Rage and something like…fear. It was not his, he knew. This was not the dark rage with which he fought, or the anguished kind that bloomed every time he thought of his family, or even the empty, quiet rage he so very often aimed at himself just for the sake of feeling something and fueling his power. No, this one was…scared. Angry, but scared. His eyes had flown open when he realized it came from Rey, the long golden thread in his awareness turning hot and orange, like a barely contained roaring flame. He'd bolted from the bed, long legs bringing him out from the warm sheets as he padded around the perimeter of his room, large hands running incessantly through his already sleep-mussed hair. He hadn't had enough sleep to begin with after his meeting with Hux and being roused with a jerk only set him on edge.

He itched to run to her, to find out what was happening in that instance. Whatever it was, it was drowning his senses as surely as he breathed, and he could not control himself under such a barrage. He thought irately at how much of himself had simply become a reflection of Rey's feelings in a matter of weeks. That alone would drive him mad, except her persistent fear kept bringing him back down to focus on her instead. His fingers twitched, making for a lightsaber that wasn't there, his mind concocting scenario after scenario of what could be happening. His mind flew unbidden to images of the general and Rey and, against his better judgement, he opened his bond to her further.

What came rushing through was not at a trickle but a dam collapsing in on itself, and for a flash of a second he had been able to see through her eyes. Alone in Hux's quarters, rustling about for something on the dark floor, swearing in aggravation. Kylo took a step forward as if to reach for her; Seeing through her eyes was disorienting enough that Kylo nearly banged into a chair before righting himself and focusing on his surroundings. The dark walls, the wall-sized window overseeing empty space, the small table where he ate alone, the brushed steel kitchenette, the raised platform where his large bed rested, sheets thrown about haphazardly in his haste to get out of it, the black leather chairs and doors leading off to the refresher and his grandfather's shrine. He walked towards that space then, sitting in front of Darth Vader's mask, looking without really seeing, for once. At least it kept him from pacing, from potentially walking into the furniture, or worse yet, finding his lightsaber and hacking it all to pieces.

No, Hux would never touch her. He knew that with certainty. Yet that imagined thought had sent something deep and dark coursing through his veins, the rushing image of long dark brown hair falling over short red locks. A tangle of sheets. Soft gasps. Interlocked fingers.

He worried at his lips, the notion boiling like a snake uncoiling in the pit of his stomach, and Kylo ached to slip back in bed and sleep, but he forced himself to concentrate on Rey and what she's projecting as he viciously tore the imagined fantasy from his mind. The fear seems to dissipate, only to be taken up by anger once more; nowhere near as horrible as the kind that had woken him, but hot and searing nonetheless.

He leant forward in his chair, elbows on knees, and ran his fingers through his hair again. A nervous tick, one left from a long time ago on a Jedi planet, when Kylo went by a different name and worried about different things, but it calmed him, and he supposed that would be a small price to pay for comfort.

She was perfectly capable of defending herself, he knew. He also knew how hard it was to think when she occupied so much of his awareness. She sat in the back of his mind day in and day out and he'd become a puppet to her whims, their bond ruling almost any other thought in his mind; it was tearing him apart in ways he didn't think possible. In ways he could have never imagined. Snoke's intrusions into his mind were nowhere near as destructive as this was. Snoke's interrogations were brutal, but they had an end eventually. Rey simply just existed there - no end in sight, and the girl wasn't quiet. No, of course she wouldn't be.

He lets out a guttural growl in frustration and his fingers twitch against his scalp, itching in that moment to pry his skull apart and physically remove her.

His body gave him a jolt, as if also physically refusing that idea, and Kylo panted. No, his mind would not allow that removal. Not now that it had been so ingrained into his very essence.

He closed the connection once more, letting it go to a soft damp hum, careful not to project his own feelings. He returned to his quarters, an infinitely large room that held no warmth, and resumed his pacing for the remainder of the night like a cornered, fretful beast.

Now he finds himself on the bridge standing by General Hux, because after hours of worrying, he had to find out what was happening with her. It would be the only way he could get some rest.

 _If something had happened other than her sleeping, there would be a reckoning._

Kylo shoves that thought aside as well, concentrating on the redheaded man who simply stares ahead like a statue. Rey does not belong to Kylo. She belongs to no one. If she had wanted to share her bed with the redhead at his side, it was well within her right to do so. Who is he to stop her from seeking whatever comfort she could find aboard a ship where she does not belong?

 _And, if she becomes attached to Hux, it's one more reason for her to stay by your side._

His gut clenches, heat spreading rather uncomfortably through him. Uncomfortable as the thought may be, it would be one way to keep her close.

"A word, General," he finally requests when he senses Hux's awareness had turned to him and he's given a rather snippy greeting; a nicety, coming from Hux. He had been very careful not to brush against Hux's mind since the last threat the general had delivered, yet somehow he was as attuned to Hux as he was to Rey, even lacking a bond tethering him to the insufferable man. An irritation for another time.

Hux motions for him to follow and they enter Hux's office in a blur that doesn't quite register inside Kylo's mind, too worried with turning over his worries from the previous night to notice the man close the door, give him a wary look, then walk around to his chair. When prompted to give a reason for his sudden appearance on the bridge, Kylo replies with the one thing taking up all of his waking time.

"The scavenger."

And then that meeting had dived from tense to unpleasant in a matter of minutes, their exchange about Rey and Kuat irritating the same aggravation he'd dealt with all night to a higher degree. When Hux got to her turning down his offer to be placed in Kylo's quarters — which jabbed at him, though he knew he had given her no reasons to want to be in his presence - Kylo had resigned himself to hating that day. Then thepotentially slippery slope of discussing her freedom with her was brought up and Kylo immediately saw red. His anger had just barely been contained. Anger at Hux for having offered it, anger at Rey for considering it, anger at himself for being too weak to keep a single girl contained _aboard his own ship_. He hated that the only way he could see forward was to keep Hux happy and obliging with the stupid trip, because keeping Hux happy seemed to be the only way he could keep Rey happy, and a happy Rey meant she was at least somewhat _willing_ to listen and be taught. He knew, he knew that he could not let her go. He'd been given orders to teach her.

Yet part of him wondered if, when the time came to it, he would be strong enough to keep her from bolting. Hux's comment about keeping her like a common household pet rankled. How could he turn her to the dark side against her will? It would be a fight every step of the way and Kylo didn't know anymore if he'd be strong enough to do so with every single one of her emotions digging at his chest.

And that was the crux of it all, wasn't it? Her blasted emotions and the continuous loop they flowed through within their bond.

He had done his best to shield her from his own, knowing that it would scare her senseless and drive her away faster than anything he could say or do, but she had no idea how to shield herself and thus everything was just projected into him, magnified, then bounced around for the rest of the day. If anything, for his own benefit, he would need to teach her to shield. Soon. He knew distance would not change anything, he'd known it since his rehabilitation with Snoke had ended and he'd spent two and a half weeks inside his command shuttle feeling all of her through their newly awakened bond. Kylo didn't know the extent of how deeply it ran, but if it were only ever to be this deep, he was already in trouble.

Yes, she'd need to learn to shield, or be a danger to him. He shuddered to think what would happen in a field of battle if she didn't and he was forced to reckon with it while trying to stay alive.

He wouldn't last.

That morning, after his meeting with Hux, Kylo makes his way quickly up the ship, taking shortcuts and lifts to speed up his way. He circles the upper levels in long strides before steeling himself and forcing his feet to walk to Hux's quarters, fists clenching and unclenching. Then he's tugging his glove off and pressing it to the access pad, sending a small rope of the force into the machinery and forcing it to read his biometrics as though they were Hux's. The red outline takes over his hand, a heartbeat, then beeps green. The door's lock decompresses and then is slowly sliding off into the wall.

He'd have to act fast. Hux would probably assassinate him in his sleep if he knew he was breaking into his quarters without his permission. He smiles. The small amount of satisfaction flees quickly, however, when his eyes fall on the couch.

Inside, Rey is curled up on the couch, covered by a big blanket and a book pressed to her nose, a kitten on her lap, looking for all the world as though this were her home and he had intruded. In a way, perhaps he had. That gut wrenching feeling in his stomach returns and he's forcing it aside as he steps in.

"Get up," he instructs. Rey jumps. Her book goes flying to the side of the couch and Millicent lets out a rather high pitched yelp at being dislodged so briskly.

Kylo stands a few steps inside the door and studies her for a long moment before realizing that the bond had laid quiet the whole time he'd been in Hux's office.

Content, if tired.

His eyes travel to the book. She hadn't heard him coming, her mind too occupied. Perhaps she'd be in a good mood.

"What're you doing here?" she demands, squinting her eyes. "And why are you so loud?"

Guess not.

"Get up. It's high enough time we began your training."

Rey frowns at him, very gently picking up her book and smoothing out the wrinkles in the pages from where she'd dropped it, setting it down on the table and giving him a glare as she ushers Millicent off her lap, the kitten having returned to its previous position. Even the cat hates him, he thinks, when Millicent gives a soulful meow then looks at him with accusation in its green little eyes before slinking off into Hux's quarters to hide away.

Rey's voice snaps him back to why he's here.

"Training? And what makes you think I want a repeat of _that_?" she bites as Kylo strides purposefully toward her, covering ground in four long steps. Their last encounter in the training room bubbles up to the forefront of his mind. "Also, I am a prisoner and no more, why would you possibly want to train me? And, I don't feel well, so you can very well just sod off now."

Kylo leans forward until he's looming over her, using his size to intimidate this time, bending at the waist until he's staring straight into her eyes. She gives him a glare and Kylo feels a sharp jab in his brain like an icepick being rammed in. He looks her over once and notes the pallor of her usually lively, olive skin, the way her hair sticks damply to her temples, chapped lips and sullen eyes rimmed with dark circles.

A hangover.

Good. She deserved it for her silliness.

"You _will_ train," he warns, leaving no room for argument and very pointedly ignoring her last question, "You will train with me now, and you will train with me on the way to Kuat. This is non-negotiable."

Rey arches a petulant eyebrow in his direction as she regains her composure, " _You're_ going?"

"Did you not hear me the first time?" is all he replies with, and notes the giant waves of displeasure rolling off of her.

"Don't look so disappointed, girl. I didn't want to go, either."

"Don't call me a girl. I have a name. And I will not train with you," she replies instantly.

"You don't get a choice in this," he counters, almost taken aback that she would balk. No one ever disobeyed his commands, much less blew them off right in front of him. The woman is infuriating. "You will train, if only so that you know how to defend yourself in Kuat, should the need arise, and so that you learn how to stop projecting _every single thought_ that crosses your mind. That would serve you poorly when negotiating."

Rey tilts her head at this, giving him a curious glance.

"I thought that was only me, and I've managed perfectly fine so far when it comes to defending myself, thank you."

He ignores her barb in favor of that first remark…knowing what she means without asking. She thought she had been the only one feeling him. Kylo curses himself then snorts.

She had thought she'd been the only one? She probably had not felt even a fraction of what he had, what with her emotions projecting 'round the clock, every day, into his mind. He tells her as much.

"You've been projecting your emotions all aboard this ship ever since I arrived here." And he'd been her radar. The bond intensified the effect, but Kylo didn't mention this. It was still true that anyone looking for her thoughts would be quick to snap them up when she made it so very easy for them. "Or do you wish me to read everything in your mind now when you had fought me so hard previously just to hide a few meager memories away?"

This snaps her spine to attention. She sits up straight and glares.

"Get out."

"No. Not until you agree to train. Do not force my hand, Rey," He growls.

He refuses to go another day with Rey embedded in his mind as though he lived inside her own.

She sits there, considering.

"If I agree to train, will you get out?" she asks warily. Kylo wonders why she's so adamant to shove him out of Hux's quarters of all places. But he simply gives her what she wants.

"Certainly."

Rey narrows her eyes at him once more, then very hesitantly nods.

Before he can breathe a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding, she sets her jaw.

"I am only agreeing to this so that I can block you out, and don't believe for a second my agreeing to this is an agreement to anything else. I am not your _student_ , I am not your _padawan_ , I am certainly never going to accept you as my Master. I do not want a _teacher_. I will take just enough of what I need to make it through this Kuat nonsense, and then we'll be done."

Kylo cringes internally, watching her flinch as his fingers fist with a creak of black leather.

It is a start, he tells himself. It's a start to what he needs.

"Fine," he says, before turning around to leave because he knows he's overstayed his welcome. "Go get ready."

Rey gapes at him.

"What, you mean _now_?" she asks, incredulously looking around her.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting your confinement in any way?" he snarks, "Your training begins now."

Rey tilts her head back and gives him an icy glare worthy of General Hux. She'd been spending far too much time around the man.

Then she's swinging her legs down from the couch and shoving them into her boots, a black clad version of the girl he had fought two months or so ago in the snow. Had it only been that long? He is left little time to wonder about it as she gets up and strides all the way to meet him, eyes hard and jaw set. Kylo turns and leads her out. Then they're walking purposefully down the halls, stormtroopers moving quickly out of their way. Some time between walking out of Hux's rooms, the doors locking behind him, and making it to the training room, his comm at his wrist screeches with a message. Kylo looks at it. It's from Hux.

 _"How did you get into my quarters?"_ The message is composed, calm, an innocent question. He knows there's a glacier's worth of anger and irritation behind it. Kylo ignores it. He'll deal with it later.

Instead, they enter the Knights' training room - deserted now as he was the only Knight currently onboard - Kylo storming through and Rey at his heel, grumbling the whole way there about her killer headache. He allowed himself to imagine a future in which she followed him this way willingly, a powerful apprentice and her Master. The image sent a thrill down his spine.

He goes to the weapons rack and picks out a practice longsword, taking his place in the middle of the room. Rey simply stands, looking at him.

"Choose your weapon," he orders.

Rey narrows her eyes.

"I thought you would teach me to guard my thoughts?" she says. Kylo's words come in a clip.

"Do you know how to meditate?"

Rey fidgets.

"I thought so." Then he removes his helmet and tosses it to the side. "Physical exertion will help you in these beginning stages, draining you of extra tension and energy to where you can allow your mind to go silent. By the way your mind has been rattling off curse words at me since we left your confines, I doubt you'd be able to meditate on your own without the aid of exhaustion. I'm also very aware you just want to fight me, so why are you holding back?"

The short explanation seemed to make sense to her because the litany of colorful swearing stops flowing into his mind and she's moving to the weapons rack. She chooses a long staff, her preferred weapon, and he gives a short nod to himself. When she turns, he gives a more pronounced one to her.

"Begin."

She flies at him without warning, a hurricane at full speed, never one to hold back. She's fury personified, a fire trying to overtake his senses. He blocks, immediately thrust into the defensive, twirling around her and parrying every blow. He knocks her feet from under her and she falls, but springs up and repays him the kindness by whacking him where the bowcaster had wounded him. Kylo hisses but keeps going, refusing to slow down for something as insignificant as a partly healed wound. All the pent up rage comes out as they attack, retreat, circle each other, attack, sweat out their anger and go at each other once more.

Rey hits him hard enough to splinter bone a few times and he in turn holds nothing back, the only sounds of their intense warring the grunts and screams and snarls coming from them both. They dance around each other and Kylo notes her movements, memorizing the way her graceful limbs move to block and parry, how she crouches to avoid his sword, how she meets his strength, his power, and deeply cultivated skill with a weapon with her own nimbleness, swiftness, and raw power of her own. They fight like two warriors who have found their opposites; a fight of equals, greater as a sum of their halves than the differences that divided them when separate. They dance like they've found their other half in the Force, though there's nothing beautiful about this dance. It's all power and lethality even without sabers. He muses over this, thoughts of Master and apprentice, then eventual equals standing together in the Force. Those thoughts are so alluring to him. They keep him focused on her as he longs for them to fight back to back rather than against one another.

"As if!" she hisses, pushing him hard and Kylo nearly stumbles.

 _I will never stand with you!_

She'd seen it.

She snarls, storming into his weapon until they're clashing, her breathy pants inches away from his face.

"You saw that?"

 _I did, you monster!_

Kylo frowns. He stops. He drops his hand to his side and Rey uses the opening to whack him hard on the side once. Kylo grunts, but makes no move to defend himself.

"What did you say?" he pants. Rey only glares.

"I said nothing," she replies through hitched up breaths.

"No, you did," he presses, stalking towards her, and Rey takes a step back as his voice lowers. "I heard you. What did you say?"

He had heard it so clearly in his mind. He knew it. It had not been imagined. It couldn't be.

"I will never stand with you," she bites.

Kylo growls, giving one hard shake of his head.

"No, _think_ it," he prompts, and at her look of confusion, he steps closer, lowering his face so he can look into her eyes until there's only a few hairs' worth of space between them. "Think it _at_ me."

She does.

It chimes in his mind as though she had spoken right into him, echoing off the internal walls of his chest, his head, his limbs. In a way, she had.

 _I will_ never _stand with you._

He smiles. It's a dark, mirthless smile that never reaches his eyes, all predatory teeth. He tests the bond, for surely if she can reach into him, it must flow the other way.

 _We shall see._

Rey recoils and looks at him as though he were a live snake. Perhaps, in her eyes, he is. Perhaps, in his own mind, he knows he is too.

"What was that?" she asks, a small choke in her voice.

Kylo simply stands there, allowing her to step back.

"What _did you do_?" she barks.

Her mind is throbbing with the residual pain of her wine escapade and his intrusion is severely unwelcome. He feels the echo of it throbbing at his temple, a slight curl of nausea in his throat.

"You tell me. You were the one screaming into my mind," he responds, hoisting his sword back into an offensive stance. Rey quickly recovers and does the same.

Where nothing was held back the last time, this time their fight is feral, two bodies warring for dominance. They rage at each other with a furious need to hurt, to force the other to submit, to bring the other to their knees. It doesn't stop until they're both dripping with sweat and covered in welts that would soon turn to bruises. He shoves all images of welts and bruises marring her skin out of his mind.

This is a small price to pay, he reminds himself, lungs on overload as he tries to still his breathing, twirling his sword lazily in front of him as he taunts her.

"Ready to meditate, girl?"

Rey growls, ready to snap. She hates being called a girl. He'd have to ask her why some day. Preferably when she wasn't feeling murderous.

She turns on her heel and makes for the door and Kylo bites back a curse, ready to sprint after her and haul her back if necessary, when Rey seems to think better of it and stops. She slowly does an about-turn and walks to the weapons rack, dropping her weapon in place, returning to him with leaden steps.

"I want you out of my head," is all she gives for an answer. He takes it as assent and drops his own weapon off, feeling the heat rolling off of her as she stands impatiently waiting for him in the middle of the room. He'll take what he can get.

But first…

He grabs a water bottle from a small cooler box kept stocked at all times, shoving it in her face as he returns to his previous spot before her.

"Drink."

She makes a face but does as told, and he can sense her relief as the water cools down a parched, tight throat. The ghostly curl of nausea in him eases as she downs the bottle's contents in five long gulps. He reaches forward and presses his thumbs to her temple, pressing them in harder when she tries to jerk away, slowly moving circles along her temples with a minuscule amount of the force sent with each administration and she sags against his fingers. Her headache slowly starts abating. He stands like this over her for a good fifteen minutes, working the hangover out of her even while having half a mind to let her keep it. But she won't learn when distracted by the headache, so he choses to not be petty and works the pain out of her senses, drawing it out slowly until it dissipates. When she looks at him like he performed a miracle with a whispered thank you, he can't help the tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

They drop to a sitting position, straight backed as they face each other. Rey does nothing but glare at him even as she mirrors him, legs curled into each other, hands on knees.

"Close your eyes," he orders. She frowns.

When she makes no move to do as she's told, he nearly growls.

 _Stubborn, insufferable woman._

"Do it, Rey," he demands, and Rey shoots him one last fiery glare before slowly, warily, dropping her lids until her eyes shut.

"Now follow my lead," he murmurs, closing his own eyes and slowly projecting images into her mind. She stiffens, he can feel through the bond, but does not refuse the thoughts he's sending her.

He guides her through breathing, matching her tempo with his own, until they're sitting in perfect harmony.

 _Clear your mind._

She definitely stiffens then, his use of their newly discovered ability through the bond most certainly unwelcome.

"Stop that," she barks.

"Stop talking," he barks in return.

The same message skitters through the bond once more.

 _Clear your mind._

Then he's showing her how to slowly compartmentalize her memories, guiding her hand - as it were - until there's nothing but a cool calm pooling inside her mind.

 _Now, follow my lead._

He hesitates. He's never done this before. Then he remembers his commands to teach her, to turn her to his side, and begins weaving a wall around her thoughts from the outside the same way he would create a wall for his own awareness. He demonstrates in slow, deliberate steps how he wraps silence around the memories, how he weaves determination into that silence until it becomes a hard wall of a nothingness, a quiet that cannot be penetrated. She catches on quickly, finding ways to strengthen and then prop up the wall on her own. He lets go of his handiwork then, untangling his senses from it as she replaces it with her own. Kylo gives her a warning before he fully removes himself, making sure not to spook her by pulling back.

 _I will step back now._

And so he does, untangling his awareness from hers until all that remains from him is the soft hum in the back of her mind, and he nearly sighs to feel that she's done the same for him. When he tries to brush against her mind, he hears nothing. There is nothing but the echo of a hum. Rey smiles, having felt his brush, but knowing he had met nothing but stony resistance. Their bond lays dormant, alive but blessedly silent for once.

His eyes open and land on her face, and for the first time he can remember, he's gifted with a grin so wide his heart clenches, momentarily forgetting how to properly engage his lungs into breathing.

The moment does not last, though. It never does, he thinks bitterly.

Soon enough she remembers who he is and he remembers why she's here. They stand in unison, Kylo gathering his helmet and donning it quietly as they walk out of the training room, through halls and up lifts, not a word exchanged even after he deposits her back inside Hux's quarters.

The silence suits him just fine. It's a welcome change after weeks of nothing but Rey inside of him all the time.

The door shuts before him and he's about to walk away when he sees a redheaded, furious General stomping towards him at full force.

"Just _where_ do you think you're going?" Hux snarls.

Kylo steels himself for the storm that's about to hit.

* * *

Hux is seething. He had seen Kylo Ren being followed by Rey as they made their way through the ship and immediately knew where they were headed. Back to his rooms. Back to his rooms that Kylo kriffing Ren had not been given permission to access. He follows at a distance on mechanical limbs to keep himself from rushing them until the door shuts closed behind Rey, then storms towards the wall of black robes and metal mask.

"General," Kylo drawls in greeting.

"How _exactly_ did you get into _my_ rooms?" Hux demands when he's standing close enough to Ren to see his reflection on the man's visor.

"The Force is a wonderful thing, General."

Hux narrows his eyes dangerously.

 _Of_ course the man would resort to his _magic_ in order to bypass Hux's carefully developed technological designs. To insert himself in the one place that was his and his alone.

"You should never underestimate it."

He grinds his molars.

"Is that all?" Ren continues, "If so, I have other things to attend to."

The man makes to side step him but Hux blocks him with a gloved hand to the chest. He knows Ren could Force choke the life out of him in aninstant but he doesn't particularly give a damn in that moment about Kylo Ren and his stupid Force, his fury coloring his senses.

"I don't think so, _Lord Ren_ ," he clips in a dangerous tone, voice low to avoid bringing unwanted attention on their heads, "We're not even close to being done here. That is my personal space you just invaded. I have made allowances for you in the past, but know this, I do _not_ welcome intruders, and do not look kindly upon those who think they can just barge in uninvited."

Ren simply looks down at his hand where it rests against his black robes, but makes no move to remove it forcefully. Hux feels the man's heartbeat under the dark robes, the wide expanse of hard, taut muscle underneath. Ren tilts his helmeted head to the left, as if considering, and it incenses him further.

"Really? Is that what you told Rey as well, Brendol?"

At hearing his name, Hux's lip draws lightly over his teeth.

He would _kill_ the man with his own hands. He had killed before for less.

"I would pay to see that under any other circumstances," Kylo's amused drawl flows through his modulator.

An image is pushed into Hux's brain: Hux's long, slender fingers wrapped around a pale bare throat, a shower of tiny moles and freckles, a long silvery scar running down its side.

He pulls his hand back, digits burning as though Ren had become a live hot coal. He had done this before, tried to gain the upper hand in their never ending power struggle by shoving unwanted images into Hux's mind. Every time he did, Hux's temper unraveled, and Kylo would bask in his own self condescending glow. The following sensation shoved upon his mind was that of the man's deep amusement and self satisfaction at Hux's reaction, at having once again used power to dominate. Ren continues, a modulated glower:

"Do not forget, General, _you_ were the one who suggested her training begin at once. I had different plans."

Then Ren does side-step him then, the conversation clearly at an end as he forces his way through with the sheer power of his broad shoulders. What was it about Force users absolutely _pushing him to the edge_? He sneers where he stands, resisting the urge to attack the man until he's watching the flow of black robes disappear around the corner; he strides off in the opposite direction, then, attempting in vain to bring his anger down to a simmer.

It would be a _very_ long trip to Kuat.

* * *

The next day finds him in the training room, trying to meditate with a fidgety Rey before him.

Kylo's eyes are closed, his breathing even, and somewhere in his mind he feels Rey twitching through the bond.

"Find your silence," he instructs her. The bond stills, he hears her breathing even out. She's trying. He slips back into meditation, a place far away where the pains of his body no longer reach him, where there is only him and the force. And his connection to Rey's mind.

Once upon a time it would have just been him and the force around him; now she'd ingrained herself right into his meditative space as well. It was a soft thing, though. Her proximity to him seemed to help, the knowledge of her whereabouts somehow easing the ever present hum, as if the only thing that could quiet their bond's incessant hum was being bodily close. A rubber band at rest. With her so close, it finally stay still long enough for him to concentrate on meditating, so unlike his attempts at Snoke's temple and aboard his shuttle. He uses that silence, that proximity, to soothe his senses.

She fidgets again.

"Rey," he speaks just above a murmur, "meditation doesn't work if you keep focusing on your discomforts. Concentrate."

There's a breathy huff from her and he flutters his left eye to open just enough to see the fuzzy outline of her seated form.

"I can't," she states, shifting in her seat. Kylo finally opens his eyes and gives up on his own meditation with an exasperated grunt.

"Not tired enough?" he asks, a small unbidden smirk blooming on his face. They'd gone hard on each during their combat bout. Kylo's aching torso was a testament to that. Still, Kylo being Kylo, he couldn't stop the words as they came next, "I could always tire you out."

Rey's ears flush red at this and he arches an eyebrow.

"No, I'm perfectly exhausted, thank you," she deadpans with a down curl of her lip, "I just can't… find my silence."

He sighs in frustration. He'd tried to get her to calm her mind well enough to where he could guide her towards accessing the Force, something that was entirely overdue by now, but her fidgeting had not only kept her from calming down but successfully disrupted his own concentration.

"Fine, no meditating. We'll try something else," he explains.

He needs to be patient with her, he reminds himself. Rey needs to be coaxed and lured into attempting any form of training, and he benefits just as much from her learning to quiet her thoughts and to not betray her mind as she does, yet she can't stop thinking at every moment of every day, and her block of the bond was tenuous at best. Sometimes she'd remember to do it and it would all go blessedly quiet, then she'd drop it absentmindedly in the middle of the day and nearly make him scream. He had a couple of times already. Instead of barging into her — Hux's — rooms and forcing her to stop, he'd taken it out on empty rooms and board panels much to the chagrin of the guards. So, if she wouldn't quiet her thoughts then he'd force her to at least guard them.

"Build up your defenses," he commands.

"Why?" she frowns, giving him a look as her mind reaches out to touch his. She meets stony silence. He lets his brows raise as he gives her a once over for her attempt at intrusion.

 _Impetuous little girl._

"Do as you're told," he orders her, expecting a fight and ending pleasantly surprised when Rey simply takes in a deep breath.

Without alerting her he reaches out and cups her cheek. She jerks instinctively to get away, but his reflexes are faster than she is and he cradles his other hand across the back of her neck, yanking her back in place. He sends a probe into her mind.

Rey's quick, but not quick enough. Her hastily thrown defenses are weak and his probe breaks through. He meets an image of breakfast.

Was she really thinking about food? _Now_ of all times? He catches himself just short of shaking his head and lets the probe die. Rey's glowering at him.

"Was that necessary?" she snaps.

He ignores her question and demands she build up her defenses as well, never once removing his hands, her skin soft to his touch and the soft downy hairs in the back of her neck tickling his fingertips. He sends in another probe.

This time he's met with stronger walls, but still not strong enough to keep him out. They fall, and Kylo snatches another wayward thought.

Again.

Again.

Again.

By the tenth thought he's snatched, the images have gone from innocuous to murderous. This particular one involves pinning him by the throat and choking the air out of him. He smirks. Maybe he could just _anger_ her into the dark side.

The next probe is met with something stronger. The minutes go by and slowly Kylo finds himself kneeling, leaning in closer as he forgets his role as a teacher and takes up her defiance to let him in as a personal challenge. He's looming over her on his knees and she tries to arch back away from him, his hair brushing her temples,, but it only brings her chest closer to his and he very nearly stutters out of his probe. His breathing's hardened and hers is hitching, beads of sweat beginning to form on her brow and his as they push each other harder. He shoves his mind into hers, trying hard to break through the walls she's been slowly strengthening and—

Rey _shoves_. Her awareness pushes against his and they get entangled in a reverse match of tug of war, her trying to push at his awareness and him trying to invade hers. And much like on Starkiller, she wins.

Kylo tenses, every muscle knotting tightly, screaming at him to run. This is not like their force bond. This isn't a rope connecting them to each other's souls, soft and glowing. This is an intrusion from the outside, forceful and callous and entirely unrefined. Rey's eyes turn doe-eyed as she breaks in, realizing that suddenly she's in his mind not once but twice. Her awareness of his thoughts has doubled. She splashes around like a child in a shallow pool, curiously looking at anything and everything that crops to the surface and Kylo almost wishes Hux were there to take her away in that moment.

She latches onto that, immediately drawn to the image of the General she has become so close to, and her breath clamps inside her throat.

Long, elegant fingers of a paleness she would never find on Jakku, too delicate for the work of the low class; fingers she recognizes as the same that had pulled her from her seat, shaken with to agree on Kuat. Those fingers were wrapping around an equally long and elegant neck covered in tiny moles and freckles.

A squeeze.

A soft caress.

Soft, thick hair the shade of midnight tangling between those careful fingers, squeezing, squeezing at warm flesh. So similar to her own desire to squeeze just moments ago.

She springs back from it with a gasp. Kylo stumbles forward at the rough jerk, hands flying from her face and cheeks to brace himself over her sides as they slam on each side of her hips, his forehead falling on her collarbone before he looks up at her; he sees his reflection in her gaze, and what stares back at him is a man with eyes dark, pupils dilated, a mix of resentment and…

They stay like that for a long moment, shared hard breaths mingling in the small space between them and Kylo tries to close his end of the bond. He's too late, of course. He's always too late with her. She plants herself in his mind though that glowing link, unbudging as she touches, caresses, investigates every part of his awareness gently. He rights himself, putting immediate distance between any of his exposed skin and any of hers.

"What was that?" she rasps, blinking at him with heavy lids.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he tries his best to sound cold and detached. That fails.

"The General?" she asks, brows rising and a tinge of red creeping up her cheeks. He narrows his eyes, taking in the way her eyes turn glassy and her nostrils flare.

She'd invaded his mind, so this time he throws out his senses and—

 _There._

A soft warmth expanding, pooling in her stomach, rolling inside her and traveling down, down. His eyes trail that warmth as if he could see it physically. It settles on her lower belly. There's something like shame mingled with that warmth.

 _So you do like him,_ he speaks to her. Rey's eyes jerk to the door, ready to fly out of there.

"I absolutely do not," she says, tone hard and defensive.

"Your body does, then," he croons, leaning back in to inspect her face. She says nothing, but her pupils expand for the length of time it takes her to blink. Then she's scrambling up and running out of the training room. He lets her go, falling back from his kneeling position with a sigh. He curls into himself and runs long fingers through his hair.

That image had been a taunt to the General when he'd threatened to kill him for taking Rey out of his rooms without permission. He had thought of nothing but to irk the man then. Kylo should have let her know that the image hadn't been real, that he'd fabricated it for his own personal amusement.

He should have.

Yet when he'd felt her warmth, spreading thickly down her limbs, through her torso, all the way to a well at the bottom of her belly, his body had responded instantaneously. Where hers had been a soft, rolling heat, his had arrived like a jolt, simmering then coming dangerously close to a boil in a matter of seconds, her reaction to an imaginary version of Hux and Kylo sharing an intimate moment setting his skin on fire, rising up to her physical reaction as if she'd taken a match and sparked him to life. He hadn't tried to even go after her in light of that.

He tries to reach out to her through the bond only to find it shut. She has an exceptional grasp of how to do it when she wants to, and only when _she wants to_. He growls.

He has to remember that her reaction had been for Hux, not him. Yet he had been part of that mental image, and that had seemed like enough, her mild interest at seeing them both, Hux and Kylo, tangled together. He shoves himself up into a standing position, picking up her discarded staff and his and dropping them on the weapons rack before stepping out of the training room, resolute to forget about the whole ordeal.

* * *

Kylo finally receives a summons. When the General walks in to stand beside him at the platform, waiting for Supreme Leader Snoke to appear, Kylo forces his eyes ahead and refuses to meet the gaze of the man standing next to him. Only about an inch and a half separates them in height, and what Kylo makes up in bulk Hux manages to compensate for in the way he carries his more slender frame, straight backed and with an air of superiority that Kylo had seen no one but his mother pull off in the past. Hux barely spares him a glance, preparing himself for their audience.

 _Just as well._

He chooses to spend the time in silence to concentrate, to school his thoughts, to hide away the outburst in the training room, to conceal all traces of any conversation about the scavenger he and the General had shared, about Snoke himself. The way Hux is staring impassively at the currently empty stand-in dais tells him he's doing the same. Good.

They're made to wait. Twenty minutes later and the giant platform that serves as Snoke's dais remains empty. This is a show of power, of course. Both men are aware that being forced to show up early then made to wait for minutes on end is nothing but the Supreme Leader showing that he chooses to do as he does simply because he _can_. Yet no two other men can weather these whims as General Hux and Kylo Ren can, straight-backedand patiently expectant the whole time without so much as a single twitch. Being made to wait is the least of what could go wrong in this audience.

Snoke does show up eventually, however, sitting at his leisure and studying them in silence. They would not speak unless addressed by the twenty foot hologram of the Supreme Leader. From the other side of the hologram a seven foot creature stares at the two smaller hologram versions of his apprentice and his General. Snoke had delayed this meeting for long enough, allowing these children to do as they pleased until they became comfortable, complacent, but it was time to rein them back in. He swings his fingers under his chin as he watches them stand like the brave little obedient granite soldiers they are and smiles.

"Report, General," he drawls and Hux snaps to attention. The man had a promising future in front of him, yet Snoke had also seen the man's most inner workings before. Humans were so fallible, always adhering to legacies and promises, tearing themselves apart to fulfill dreams they never fully understand themselves, dreams that were never their own to begin with.

"Supreme Leader, we have scheduled a gathering in Kuat to procure more ships and weapons, in the absence of Starkiller base, to help us prepare for an attack on the rebellion," the redhead toy soldier clips, shoulders stiff. He hates being the one to deliver the reminder of his own failure, and Snoke nearly smiles.

"Your initiative to plan ahead is commendable, General. Funds will be transferred to the Order's coffers. See to it we are well supplied," Snoke picks up a holopad and punches a few key digits in. Within minutes the transfer is made, and he makes sure to provide plenty of funds to cover transactions. Funds have never been a problem for him, not for a very long time, and he needed his army well supplied. He cares little for things like credits when there are far more interesting things to discuss, "I suggest haste."

"Yes, Supreme Leader," Hux agrees and gives a short bow. Snoke nods, immediately dismissing the ships from his mind as his eyes fall on Kylo ren.

Much more important things to discuss.

"And what of the girl?" he asks, and Hux looks at Kylo, knowing that his time to speak has ended.

The young knight in front of him gives a short bow, a greeting of 'Supreme Leader,' then slips into his explanation.

"She is strong," Kylo states, "Though she is impulsive and fights my control at all times. Still, I have been able to coax her to opening up to learning. At least now she's trying to learn to meditate."

Snoke hums. How very pleasing to hear. She will fight every step of the way, and he needs her to. This was her sandbox to play in, to strengthen her spine, until he had a use for her. She would not suit his plans if she were a weakling, a thing made to break. No, he needed her to be made of steel, to be the foundation upon which he built his future order, the seat from which he'd rule a galaxy. Snoke had been so surprised at the awakening. He had gone through great lengths to eliminate all Jedi, and despite force sensitives existing as seers, as people who could sense that which was intangible, few of them awoke into their powers. Few could access the well of the Force. Imagine his surprise to find that the awakening was a _girl_. A babe, by any definition. Snoke had lived a hundred years. More. Her lifespan was but a single breath to him, a single blink, and yet—

She would be integral to his plan to conquer. He nearly purrs.

He could wait.

When he reaches out and touches the minds of the men across this plane of the Force, he finds them having carefully shielded their thoughts, as they always did. Careful not to reveal everything. He respected this to an extent — fools who offered up their minds were not worthy of being in power… So he'd allow them their thoughts today. Invasions of mind were ugly things, and he preferred to use them as a teaching tool. He knew that you could only push a man so far before he'd rebel or his mind would break, and he needed these two whole for now. Whole and entirely faithful to him.

Yet Snoke does not need to dig into their awareness to feel its immediate aura. If he concentrated, he could feel both thinking of her in very different lights. _Interesting_. Where Kylo's thought emanates heat, Hux's is tempered by a soft warmth. One is impatient, earnest, tinged with desire. The other is serene, soft as one would touch a flower.

So… the men were starting to develop _feelings_ for his scavenger. Feelings for what was his, for his would be Queen. Perhaps this amused him most of all. Humans…so fallible. So willful, so needy, so quick to succumb to their desires. He does what he knows how to do best.

"General," he prompts, and Hux's eyes snap up to him through the hologram. He slowly drums his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Tell me, what do _you_ think of the girl? She's lived in your rooms this whole time, after all."

Both men stiffen and Snoke smirks internally.

"She is smart," Hux offers truthfully, "Perhaps too much so. And she is eager, Supreme Leader."

Hux offers him a single memory that Snoke snatches, immediately delighting in it. That of a girl threatening to cut his head off not that long ago. The whispers of a strong girl rushing through the ships. That of a girl, shifting her weight and asking to learn about the Order.

He arches an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he asks.

Good. This is _very_ good.

"You have kept her happy? Comfortable?"

Kylo is hardening his shoulders by the second. Snoke barely spares him a glance. No matter. He would find out the Knight's true feelings later much as the young man thought himself strong enough to avoid his basest desires, to control his need to feel, Snoke knew it was futile. He was an imperfect vessel of Light and Dark. He had once thought this was what he'd need. Now he sees that what he needs is a counter to himself, he who is a creature made of darkness. Still, the Knight was pliant and useful.

Hux interrupts his train of thought.

"As well as one can with a prisoner, My Lord," the redheaded General answers, yet Snoke can tell by the man's face that he's only telling a half truth. The redhead standing there is a master of control. Snoke has had to exert far more pressure in order to read him than the open book that is Kylo Ren. Still, it seems the scavenger brings a side out in the man that he has to fight hard to contain. _Feelings_. Such a weak thing. It was immensely amusing to him to watch these children squabble over such a petty thing as sentiment.

Hux continues.

"She has asked to learn more of our cause, so I have willingly allowed her to shadow me, now that I have ensured she's not a spy. She is a quick learner. I would like to request your permission to bring her to Kuat with me, that she might see the might of our Order as our ships are built."

Snoke considers for a long time. He cared little for the Order's shows of might, with their little ships and their little guns, in truth, but if a display of power changed her alliances sooner, then this could only benefit him.

"You may," he gives finally. Hux nods.

His attention turns to Kylo Ren.

"Lord of Ren," he uses the formal title to address his apprentice, "What of you? Can you agree that she is a quick learner?"

Kylo bows, "I can, supreme leader. She can be a good asset to our cause if properly trained."

"I am glad to hear," he drawls, his mind thinking of the scavenger, throwing out his awareness. He could feel her like a pinprick across the force, brighter than most, somewhere in the galaxy. Probably a few thousand feet from where the men stood. If only he could but reach across the hologram and into the ship, to pluck her from it and to his side.

No, he would bide his time from his perch. He would let them run around and believe themselves independent, powerful, and lull her into the Dark before she came to him, prepped and primed to become his vessel of glory. He had lived hundreds of years. He could wait a little longer.

"Bring her to me to test her knowledge after your expedition," he says, then fixes both men with a hard stare, "Ensure that she has learned well. We have little time to waste before we must strike against what is left of the rebellion and the struggling rabble of the Republic."

The men nod in assent and Snoke dismisses them, switching off his hologram.

Then they're walking out the door once the dais sits empty and the amphitheater grows dark, the clicking of their heels the only sounds reverberating off walls as they put distance between themselves and the room of their audience.

Hux is deadly quiet for the duration of their walk, leaving Kylo to his silence as he marches ahead, shoulders stiff.

" _Is_ she happy?" Hux asks out of nowhere and Kylo has to mind his step as the words register.

"I am not sure I know what you mean, General," he replies, knowing exactly what the redhead had meant, yet disbelieving the question all the same. He knew the man to be cold, calculating, perfect and obsessive in nearly every endeavor. He did not know the man to obsess over the feelings of a girl, however. Hux seems less inclined to drop the subject.

"Rey." he offers, giving him a hard look, "You seem to be able to understand her far better than I ever would."

"What do you think?" His response is tone-dead as Kylo resists the urge to parrot back a near-similar answer to the one Hux himself had given Snoke.

Hux stiffens.

"What I think doesn't matter as much as how she can serve us does."

Kylo turns to the man as they walk, donning his helmet, his voice immediately becoming metallic and breathy.

"If I didn't know any better, General, you've been the one serving her," his voice takes on a self assured tone tinged with wry amusement as he goads, "I saw her mind; someone hovering over her as she fell asleep. It was foggy, but I know it to be you. Or this is you just _enjoying the challenge_?"

The man walking beside him says nothing, still walking at a brisk pace, visibly irritated despite the small creep of flattering pink slowly gracing his otherwise pale countenance. Kylo smirks, but it only lasts so long.

The reminder of having seen Rey's mind brings him back to the episode in the training room. Suddenly he's very glad to be wearing his mask. He who had enjoyed a similar challenge of making Hux squirm, he had no room to needle the General. Having enjoyed that challenge had come back to bite him in the ass, though.

He lets the subject drop.

When Hux finally speaks, it's to change tracks entirely.

"We will have to tell her eventually that Snoke wants to see her. I will leave that to you, Ren. She is your apprentice, after all?"

The last part of that sentence comes out with a snort and Kylo's fingers tighten into a fist.

"If you set her free then what does it matter?" Kylo replies, voice low, measured.

"Her freedom is up to _you_ , Ren. You'd do well to remember this," Hux gives him a side glance, "Though if you'd rather like to have her fight you the whole way and that's some odd kink of yours, be my guest."

He takes in a deep inhale and feels the vein at his temple throb.

No. No, he couldn't have her fight him. That was the whole reason he had agreed to this silly trip to begin with, to earn her trust and bring her rightfully to his side. He lets out an exasperated grunt.

"That's what I thought," Hux provides, eyes focused ahead of them, before he whispers.

"He doesn't know everything."

Kylo's helmet turns as he looks at Hux's sharp profile; eyes narrowed, nose held high, back of his neck straight.

He thinks back to the General asking for permission to bring Rey to Kuat. Except Hux had set that in motion long before their audience. In playing up appearances by giving the Supreme Leader a half truth — about Rey's desire to integrate herself into the Order by learning from it, about not having yet decided to bring her to Kuat before he asked for permission — and having hidden the offer he'd made Rey, Hux had uncovered a small chink in Snoke's armor.

 _He doesn't know everything._

They keep to themselves as they turn that small fragment of information in their minds, quietly walking side by side before they part ways to their respective quarters.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** Ehehehe. These idiots, bless them. I hope you enjoyed it and I look forward to hearing from you!


	12. King, Queen, Knight

The day of their departure comes four days later with a flurry of activity at the hangars. The raider-class corvette sits waiting in the middle of the space, a small crew running in and out of the ship loading cargo, the engines prepping for departure. Hux stands on a platform and looks at it impassively as he waits for Kylo Ren and Rey to make their appearance. Their morning training session should be done by now.

The ship resembles the much larger star destroyers of the order, ensuring that anyone seeing it would fear confrontation despite its size. It is a small ship compared to some of the other options available to Hux, but it is equipped to travel hyperspace. It is well armed and easily defensible, and, most importantly, it is large enough that Hux and his two companions could walk away from each other when the time came for much needed space. He'd made sure of that because, in all honesty, he _knows_ they'll need that space. It is also large enough to allow Kylo Ren and Rey a large training room for them to beat each other to a pulp without damaging the ship. He'd seen to that, seeing to it that the space be _made_ if it wasn't already available.

Just as the thought crosses his mind Rey comes bouncing up to his side. Hux frowns. She's awfully peppy today.

"Is that her?" The question comes out of her with a breathy high pitch.

Hux turns his head lightly to look at her with arched brows, then nods.

"That's our home for the next two weeks."

Rey smiles so brightly it's nearly blinding. He simply watches her and saves the memory of that smile; it appears so very rarely that he cherishes it while it lasts, even if he knows it is not his place to. He's already taken from her with this trip; he should steer away from her and refrain from taking more. Yet he can't help himself; smiles like that are not often displayed around him, or born as a result of his actions. Figures that a _ship_ of all things would be the thing to make her this happy.

"She's _beautiful_ ," Rey exclaims with a hint of awe in her voice.

"That she is," Hux murmurs, voice soft, tearing his eyes away from Rey before his gaze lingers longer than appropriate.

"Where is Ren?" he asks lightly. Rey's mood sours, the air immediately turning stale and heavy around him. So very different from the light, airy space it had been but just a few seconds before.

"You mean the insufferable bastard?"

Hux's lips draw slightly upward despite his attempts at remaining impassive.

"That's one way to put it," Hux agrees.

Then steps are coming from behind and there's only one person aboard this whole ship who could make the simple act of walking sound like a death march.

"The _insufferable bastard_ is here," Ren's voice drips with sarcasm as he comes to a stop on Rey's other side. To the passing eye, she would look like a child between the two much taller men. She has the decency to blush at being caught in the name calling.

"General," the man offers, voice neutral and flat.

Hux inclines his head in greeting, intent on remaining as cordial as humanly possible if they were going to survive through this trip. After Ren's crass invasion of privacy in the hall four days ago, he is resolute in his decision to avoid talking to the man unless absolutely necessary. Rey ignores Kylo entirely and looks at him as though she had just realized something rather abruptly.

"While we're gone, who's looking after Millicent?"

Of all the things she could be worried about — being confined to a rather small ship with Ren and himself for two weeks, having to negotiate on behalf of people she hates, potentially managing to finally get her wish of freedom — _that_ is what she asks? It's almost enough to make him want to laugh. Then he remembers that aside from Hux himself and occasionally Ren, Millicent had been Rey's sole companion for nearly a month. He chuckles despite himself and shakes his head. Of course she'd ask. His mind focuses for a second on the notion of her implied return when she voices her concern for the tabby.

"She'll be taken care of," he offers. Rey frowns at him, utterly unconvinced. Hux tugs on the edges of his gloves, securing his wrists away from the cold of the hangar as he looks at Rey, "Phasma will look after her."

Then something very _peculiar_ happens: Rey's ears start turning red by degrees. It starts at the tips of her ears and slowly spreads to her earlobes, crawling to her jaw and blooming towards her cheeks. Her neck and collarbone run a deeper shade of pink. When she manages enough courage to actually look at him, her eyes travel to his fingers and she blushes harder. His left eye twitches.

"Are you alright? Are you feeling okay?" he asks, serious concern ringing with every word.

They're about to embark on a trip for two weeks and the last thing they need is for Rey to become violently ill with no access to a proper medical bay. The corvette would have its own med bay, but it was equipped to deal with battle wounds for short amounts of time until it managed to arrive to a flagship, not to deal with long, drawn out illnesses.

"I—.." Rey's face turns even redder and even Kylo is turning to look at her then, stepping closer behind Rey should she faint, but Rey's shaking her head and squaring her shoulders, even if the flush continues to intensity. "I'm perfectly alright. Thank you."

He frowns, Kylo has not moved away, still standing silently behind her.

"Are you positive?" he presses again. "We can request a medical team immediately."

The woman can be stubborn. _That_ peculiarity he's more than familiar with.

"I'm fine, General," she intones, her words laced with clipped annoyance as she slams the door on that particular line of inquiry for him.

Hux studies her a moment longer before he nods, but he keeps looking at her out of the corner of his eye just to make sure while they stand there for another twenty minutes as the ship engines are primed and, finally, the passengers' belongings are loaded. Kylo's helmet twitches slightly every once in a while as well, and Hux knows the man is keeping just as close an eye on their prisoner as he is.

Finally it's time to board and the three of them walk down the hangar and up the ramp in the same formation they had kept on the platform, Rey flanked by both Hux and Kylo Ren. Behind them the crew enters, followed by two squads of stormtroopers. Once they reached Kuat, the corvette would sit in orbit while Hux, Rey and Ren descended on a smaller vessel. Having a crew to maintain and fly the corvette would also allow Hux hands-free time to impart Rey with her lessons. They had started two days ago, going over the basics of Kuat's leading structure, but now came the hard work. He'd have to cram her head with details of ships and weapons, of negotiation and diplomacy, and manage to do it just shy of fourteen days.

The ramp lifts shut behind them, sealing them inside with a loud, metallic finality. Hux looks at the man and woman walking ahead of him. Rey notices that he's stopped walking and hesitates. Kylo keeps walking. He's familiar with the layout of the ship and makes himself scarce immediately, leaving Rey standing there between him and the retreating crew. Hux arches an eyebrow at this.

"I take it training didn't go well?" he asks, and the bridge of her nose pinches.

"The man is just so..so…" she struggles to find a suitable enough insult, her cheeks puffing out slightly, and Hux smiles.

"I know," he supplies.

Rey sighs and shakes her head and Hux slowly walks up the remaining distance to her side, giving her an inquisitive glance. Then the words are spilling out of her at a ridiculous speed.

"He's just so… _infuriating_!" She balks, yanking in irritation at the black arm wraps crawling up her biceps. "He taught me how to stop projecting my thoughts, which is very useful, except now he seems bent on destroying all of that progress by constantly trying to beat my walls down! And meditation. How does he even do it? Does he not have a tailbone? Because mine's been _screaming_ from days of sitting on hard floors trying to _find my silence_. What does that even _mean_? Imagine it like a calm pool, he says. Well, he can shove his small pool of silence right up his—"

Hux hums, interrupting her before she says the words that he knows will send him into an outburst; he refuses to be that undignified in front of her or anyone else for that matter.

"Perhaps he's simply trying to help you strengthen them," Hux replies, his own thoughts traveling back to their last incident. "I can assure you, if there's anyone who can teach you how to build those walls up, it's Lord Ren."

Hux doesn't tell her it's because the man is pure filth and continually tries to lord his power over others. Rey looks at him with a strange expression on her face. He knows that by admitting that last bit, his words sound a little too much like a compliment. Let her be blissfully unaware. He is sure she'll learn soon enough.

Rey looks to be considering her next words. Hux waits.

"Even so… blocking him will only do so much. I can _hear_ him. He's constantly there, like an annoying fly that refuses to leave me alone."

Comparing Kylo to a fly is the last thing Hux could have ever expected. It's so unconceivable in his mind that he snorts, because Kylo Ren is anything but a fly. Then he looks at her and frowns.

"What do you mean?"

She hesitates for a moment, but her need to finally vent to _someone_ about it must have finally gotten the best of her because she's spilling out again. Hux would have to teach her how to keep her cards closer to her chest somehow. He couldn't afford for this to happen during negotiations.

"He's just…It's hard to explain, General," she says as they start walking, "He's in _there_."

She points to her head and jabs her index into her temple.

"For two weeks, he's been nothing but incessantly tugging at me and blocking him out only goes so far. It only dampens the noise. It doesn't mute it."

Hux slowly brings his hands behind his back the way he does when he's thinking hard. His fingers curl around his other hand and he walks slowly towards the passenger's area. They would need to buckle up for take-off soon, but the crew would not take off until the commanders were ready, so really, there was no rush. His mind is more preoccupied with Rey's words. She could hear him? All the time? What sort of torture would that be like?

So much made sense in that moment, however. The quiet conversations they seemed to carry at a glance. The way she had started tensing every time Kylo came into view or joined them, _especially_ if he joined them.

It explained so much. He proceeds gingerly.

"Do you mean he… _talks_ to you..?"

"No, well— yes.. Sometimes. Most of the time it's just…" Rey worries at her lip and Hux's eyes zero on the motion. "His feelings."

So… a very horrific, exhausting kind of torture.

"He's projecting?"

Hux didn't know much about the Force, but he knew enough to know about projection. He had, in two instances, projected his own thoughts for Ren to grab onto. Snoke was particularly fond of digging inside people's minds and snatching thoughts floating too close to the surface as well. He wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the whole process. He is aware enough to know the Force is real, even if to him it seems rather like people make a bigger deal of it than necessary.

Rey shakes her head.

"No…" she says in a near whisper, "In fact, he's better at keeping me out of his thoughts than I'll ever be at returning the favor… he shrouds them in such deep silence. They just…still… _come at me._ "

He knows she is placing immense trust in him to share something so private about herself _and_ the first Knight of Ren, so he waits for her to speak rather than needling her for information, aware that the only reason she's opening up to him is because she has no one else to turn to.

"You said he keeps you out. So this…exchange…goes both ways?"

Rey nods.

Before he can ask further questions a speaker beeps to life, informing all passengers that all engines are primed for take off. Hux and Rey quicken their steps until they're standing in the passenger bay. Kylo's already strapped to his seat, his body rigid, helmet resting on his lap while he stares blankly straight ahead.

Hux looks at him as he straps himself into the opposite seat, Rey sitting a few seats away on Kylo's side. His eyes move slowly between the two force sensitives. They could _communicate_ that way? Were they exchanging thoughts now? Hux tried to imagine being inside Ren's mind and immediately averts his gaze when the Knight's eyes fall on him hard. What a dark place to be in, he imagines.

Twenty minutes later finds them out in hyperspace, coordinates set for Kuat, and all three passengers unbuckle their belts and slip out of their seats. Kylo Ren is the first to speak.

"Training will resume at zero seven hundred hours," he informs Rey as he looms over her. Rey frowns but nods curtly.

Then he's storming away and Rey glares at his back, leaving Hux to wonder what that was all about, though he doesn't have to wonder for long as Rey starts muttering to herself. 'Insufferable bastard' seems to have become her favorite monicker for the man. Hux clears his throat.

"As much as I'd love to sit and listen to you curse the man all the way to the outer rim, and truly, I would…" he insists as Rey turns her attention to him, her murmurs dying on her lips, "There is the matter of our own lessons. We will need to begin right away. Tonight, in fact."

Hux pulls out a data pad from his great coat and extends it for her to take as he steps closer. Her fingers gingerly reach out, brushing his own, before she frowns and pulls it up to her face. He continues.

"Your lessons have been loaded onto this data pad. Needless to say there is no access to outside connections, and I would appreciate it if you tried to remain as concentrated on the task at hand as possible given your new…development… with Lord Ren." Hux could only imagine how distracting it would be to sense the man inside his head at all times. "We will go over your reading material every evening from sixteen hundred hours until bed time, with a break at nineteen hundred hours for dinner."

Rey nods, turning on the data pad and quickly inspecting the documents on it, accepting this as her due for these negotiations. Hux is pleased that she does not look dismayed at the massive amounts of data she'll have to read. Then she's looking up at him as if waiting for him to speak more, which Hux takes as an opportunity for what comes next.

"Follow me," he says, stepping away from her and making to turn. Rey falls in step immediately as he leads them through hallways. Stormtroopers snap to attention and push themselves further back into the walls, offering them both a wide berth.

It only takes a few moments, but then he's standing in front of a set of doors. He punches an access key into the pad, prepping the scanner for fingerprints. He motions to the access pad and when she hesitates Hux reaches, grabbing her wrist and bringing her right hand to the scanner. He feels her tense, but she allows him to guide her until the access pad is beeping green.

"Your rooms," he finally says when she turns to look at him with wide eyes, still skeptic.

That gives her pause. She searches his face for a second to see if he's lying, but when he betrays nothing, she smiles.

"So I get my own space? No sharing with you?"

Were he any other man he would have felt hurt at those words, but he reminds himself of their particular situation and nods instead.

"It's not like you can escape while we're in hyperspace," he explains, "and it's going to be a long two weeks."

She nibbles at her lower lip then before nodding. Her hand comes back up to the access pad and it blinks green with assent, sliding the door open for her. Hux watches from the threshold as she enters and does a wide turn. The rooms are not big, given the ship; a full-size bed, a small desk and chair a few feet away, drawers under the bed for her belongings, a sink and mirror, and a door to a small sonic fresher to the left. It was standard officer quarters, though perhaps with a bit more privacy than for petty officers. He and Ren would each have similar accommodations down the hall. But then Rey's turning and looking at him as if he had just handed her a palace. His gut clenches.

"Thank you, General, this is very kind of you."

Her display of gratitude is so very unlike the scavenger he's used to that Hux just stands there without stepping inside.

He looks at the data pad in her hand, forcing her to follow his gaze and her eyes land on it as well.

"We'll be reviewing the first two chapters of material at sixteen hundred hours in the main lobby. Please make sure to have reviewed the information by then," he says and turns around more sharply than intended, leaving her standing in her small quarters, the door sensors finally pick up on the fact that he's not obstructing the space, closing behind him with a hiss.

* * *

"Are you done playing house with the scavenger, General?" comes a low, breathy voice behind him. Kylo Ren is looming over his back as he leans in to whisper in Hux's ear, his tone mocking, and Hux narrows his eyes.

"Are you done being a perpetual pain in my arse?" he bites back.

Ren leans back then and chuckles.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

Hux refuses to dignify that with an answer. Kylo comes around him to sit in the open space opposite him inside the common room. Between them a table prepped for a game of Dejarik sits untouched. Neither man looks at it.

Hux had spent the better part of an hour going through documents for Rey's lesson, as well as catching up on work he would issue to Lt. Savoy and Phasma once they dropped out of hyperspace. Work never waited for anyone, after all. He glares at Ren then returns to his work. It seemed like that was the only thing he ever had time for lately, work and dealing with these two glorified children. He really does not want to be here talking to Ren, so he tries to get him to just stomp off as is his custom.

"What else would you be doing?" he asks with his eyes glued to the screen, "Don't you have things to attend to or troops to terrorize?"

"Hardly, General," Kylo replies, "We're stuck in hyperspace for two weeks and until the girl is ready to train, I have exactly a hundred and fifty meters of space. We're bound to run into each other eventually."

Hux finally lifts his eyes from his document, because this has gone on long enough, and if this is how they're starting out their journey Hux is about ready to order the crew to drop out of hyperspace and return back to the Finalizer.

"What do you want, Ren?"

Kylo sits there and watches him for a long time, all traces of teasing - if you could call what Ren did _teasing_ \- suddenly evaporating. He's is out of his usual long robe and cowl, sitting in front of Hux in his ribbed calf-length tunic and no globes gracing his large hands. He looks a little more like a normal person and less like a monstrous creature born of nightmares that way, unmasked and crowned with impossibly beautiful jet black hair. He also looks so young, Hux muses, despite the long thin scar marring his features. It was a perfect picture of danger and vulnerability, that face. The man may look young and beautiful, scars and all, but that very same scars are a reminder that Kylo Ren dealt in death. You don't earn those sorts of scars sitting behind a desk.

"I was ordered to teach her… at _whatever_ cost," Ren starts, his long fingers curling into a fist on top of the table. Hux notes how Kylo's eyes take on the same far away look he'd had the night he placed Rey in his bed. " _She_ is the key to my training's completion, General."

"I see," murmurs Hux.

So this is why the man is so hesitant about the idea of the girl's freedom.

Sure, she is Force Sensitive, and a strong one, at that. Hux would be stupid to deny that the fact alone probably held a great deal of appeal to Kylo Ren — Hux himself could appreciate a good challenge against somebody who could match him and his wit — he assumed it would be the same for the Knight of Ren when it came to her. Yet they both also know that she has very little to offer in terms of useful information now that Luke Skywalker had slipped between Ren's fingers, and she would be practically useless if she refuses to learn of her own volition. _That_ , Hux reminds himself, is the only reason the man is sitting across from him, sharing more personal information than he ever had in the many years they'd spent working together. He says as much.

"And if she refuses your tutelage?" he queries carefully. "The only reason she's agreeing to any of this is because she believes she'll go free. Once this is all done, she'll refuse you."

Hux also knew how important it was to Ren to complete his training. He'd been in plenty of audiences, listening to Snoke dangle the promise of making Kylo Ren the strongest Force user in the galaxy through use of the Dark, had watched as the man before him bled day after day for it, patiently and obediently doing as the supreme leader had ordered for years while chasing that promise; an impossible task to try and retrieve the dangled carrot. Hux's eyes narrow, a small treacherous thought crossing his mind.

"Do you think, perhaps, that is exactly what the Supreme Leader is hoping for?"

The words come out softly, murmured as if the walls had ears. Kylo's eyes snap up to his and something dangerous crosses his visage, then the raven haired man schools his expression to blankness. If there is something Kylo Ren wants more than the scavenger, it is to complete his training and fulfill whatever sense of destiny the man had made up for himself.

"The supreme leader is wise, General," Kylo deadpans, yet the way in which his jaw hardens and his temple throbs tells Hux that his words had hit too close to home for comfort.

"I never said he wasn't wise, Ren," Hux agrees, suddenly unable to keep the gears in his mind from whirling, and he does not mean it when he says, "You and I both know that."

He leaves the rest unsaid. Snoke certainly is wise, but as Hux knew all too well, being wise and being honest were entirely different things. Then an image is being shoved into Hux's mind as Kylo takes on a pained expression. A memory.

 _Two men stand on a long bridge over a deep fall into nothingness. One, Ben Solo — no, Kylo Ren — Ben solo died a long time ago._

 _The other is older, a few inches shorter, scruffy faced and so very sad, but determination is painted across his face. He looks like Kylo Ren, the man Kylo Ren would be if he ever reached that age._

"What is this?" Hux's voice comes at a hitch.

 _That man, Han Solo — for who could it ever be but his father come to haunt him? Something else?_

 _"Take off that mask. You don't need it."_

 _"What do you think you'll see if I do?"_ The modulated voice, despite its metallic, airy tinge, sounds regretful

"No. Ren, stop."

Hux is starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable. This is not for him to see. This was never for him to see.

Why is Ren sharing this with him?

 _"Your son is gone. He was weak and foolish, like his father."_

His father had come to bring him home.

Hux can't tear himself from this, hard as he tries. Kylo Ren won't let him. He doesn't want to _see_ this. Hux has a perfectly constructed mental image of the man sitting in front of him that he'd like to preserve if he is to make it through this war, and this memory has no place in it. This was too personal. Too private. Too _human._

 _"That's what Snoke wants you to believe, but it's not true. My son is alive." The man who is a reflection of who Kylo Ren could have been_ speaks _, and flashes of pain flare._

 _"No. The Supreme Leader is wise," Kylo retorts, wanting to believe those words like he's never believed in anything._

 _"Snoke is using you for your power," Han speaks, "When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you — You know it's true."_

Hux feels his heart contract. Yet he understands now why this is being shared with him. Hux had implied the same thing not but a minute ago.

 _"It's too late."_

 _Then Han is looking so much older in that moment, a man pained for his child, a man willing to die. And die he does._

Hux sees through eyes that are not his as the life slips from an old, ragged man's eyes, feels through a memory that is not his as a hand cups his cheek in one last caress. Senses through hands that are not his one last heartbeat as Han's pushed over the edge.

 _There's a scream from above, and his eyes land on a scavenger._

Then he's jerking back from that memory, nostrils flaring as he tries to suck in air. He stares at Kylo, who's looking back at him with a mix of anguish and hard anger. They sit there and stare at each other while Hux tries to grapple with every bit of his being for a foothold so that he doesn't mourn for a father that is not his.

"Do you see now why I must do this, General? The lengths I have gone?" Kylo's voice is surprisingly flat and collected.

There is no room for sentimentality in the world they inhabit. Yet…Hux's father had never looked at him the way Kylo's had looked at him even in his dying moments, and his heart aches. How horrible, for a boy to grow up thinking he's not loved, when that love had stared him right in the face until the very end. How horrible, to have to sacrifice something so large for a promise that wasn't being fulfilled. And he understands, then, why Kylo clings onto his belief that Snoke will deliver with every shred of his being. Because if he fails to believe, he has nothing left.

"That memory was not for me to see, Ren," Hux reproaches, trying hard to place a bite in his words that does not quite deliver.

"No, it was not," Kylo agrees before standing up and walking away.

It was not for him to see, but he had _needed_ to. It had been too personal, too pained, and yet… and yet, it told Hux all he needs to know. That Kylo Ren is on the same page he is, even if he ardently wants it to be different. That his words had been confirmation of something Kylo Ren had tried very hard to ignore. That, despite it all, he is too deep in now to change course. Perhaps Hux is, too.

* * *

The small clock tucked into the wall of Rey's room ticks closer to zero sixteen hundred and Rey rolls herself out of the small bed and shoves her feet into her boots. She looks around but aside from the small data pad she'd been engrossed in, there's nothing for her to take along with her, so she approaches the access pad on the inside of the room and presses her right hand to it. It glows green and a satisfying beep reaches her ears; Rey smiles. This is the first time in what feels like eternity that she's been able to truly have space to herself, and it feels heavenly. Sure, General Hux's quarters were something out of a dream to a previous scavenger like her, but having her own space was a luxury she hadn't been afforded for a very long time. The doors slide open with a soft sound of decompression and she steps out, letting it fall shut behind her.

She vaguely remembers the way, but there's a small information station close enough and Rey accesses the ship's deck plan, landing her in the common area soon enough. General Hux is already seated at the table, brows furrowed over what must surely be work. Rey didn't think the man ever did anything but work. She was correct. A quick glance down at his data pad showed a list…a very long one.

His eyes are finding her then and there's a peculiar hardness that nearly makes her take a step back. Something very near like pain. Then it's gone in a second, replaced by perfect professionalism, and Rey is left to wonder if she imagined it. He looks at the clock and there's still a minute left to zero six hundred.

"Punctual," he speaks, his tone lightly impressed. "I didn't know if you knew how to read a clock."

Rey glares at him, but by the twitch of his lips she realizes he's joking and Rey huffs.

"I didn't know you knew how to be anything but a straitlaced curmudgeon."

He smirks then, prompting her to sit.

As soon as she sat down the litany of questions began.

"Where is Kuat located?" he asks.

"In the Galactic Core," she replies instantaneously, her brain latching onto the information she had read about previously.

"And what is their political arrangement?" he continues.

"Neutral. They are ruled by a group of influential aristocratic families that refer to themselves as royalty."

Hux nods, "So how are you to address them?"

"Your Lordship, My Lady, Mister or Madame Dignitary. Also as Your Majesty, should we encounter one of the high family matriarchs."

Hux rewards her with a curt nod at this, and Rey pinches her nose at the last. She didn't think very highly of people who thought they could lord their power over everyone else.

"You will refrain from doing that in front of any Kuati persons," Hux interrupts her train of thought. It's not a question, and she smirks.

"What? Show my distaste?"

"Exactly." Then he's back to the stream of questioning.

"What are their main sources of business?"

"Import and export of goods, primarily weapons and some spices, but mostly their wealth is built on ship making."

They go on like this until it's dinner time, touching on all points from Kuat Drive Yards and its formation, to the Royal We and how they had built their ruling order, sometimes resorting to gossip and corruption, even one particular backstabbing hundreds of years ago. Rey's eyes had gone wide as saucers. So much political intrigue. Despite this, she learned, the planet as a whole was ruled fairly and the citizens treated well. All political fights came about partly because these were families tied together for thousands of years, and families tend to fight.

Dinner comes and goes without event. Rey wonders for a moment where Kylo Ren is; she had not seen him since departure, but then she figures the man probably ate on his own. Or maybe he just didn't eat, she muses. She had never seen him take a single bite out of anything. Not even water during long training sessions. He'd always walk along quietly after training as Rey stuffed herself with an energy bar and chugged water, and he looked as if he needed absolutely no sustenance. _Maybe his creepy dark side Force keeps him going. Maybe he's undead._

Then Rey and Hux are finishing their meal and returning to the questions. By the time it all ends Rey's exhausted, her elbow propped on the table and her face sliding off her hand. Between the long training session of that morning, having drained all of her physical energy, and all of the mental power this lesson was taking, Rey just wants to drop where she sits and sleep.

Hux must have sensed this because he's suddenly reaching forward and turning off her data pad.

"You did well," he says. Rey's eyes fly to his face. Was that a compliment? "Now get some rest. I believe you have an early start in the morning."

Rey just sits there. Now that their lessons are over, the general seems to return to a place Rey can't quite read him from. She's used to him being surly, snappish, and sometimes even friendly to a much, much more minimal degree. This General is aloof and detached, his mind seemingly far away from him. Without thinking, she reaches out to brush her mind against his. Then there's a wall slamming up and she recoils.

Hux's eyes travel very, _very_ slowly from the work in front of him to her face. He says nothing.

"You seemed… troubled," is all she can manage, despite wanting desperately to apologize.

Yet she wouldn't. She had done nothing wrong. If anything, she had allowed herself to feel concern for a moment.

Obviously it had backfired.

"If you want to know something, Rey, I suggest you ask me."

He says her name so infrequently that the few times he does she snaps to attention. Perhaps that is his intended effect. It works. She stiffens her shoulders.

Fine, she would.

"Why are you really doing this?" she asks. It wasn't the question she had wanted to ask. What she had wanted to ask was _what's wrong_ \- but she knew he'd never tell her that.

"What are you referring to?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"This!" she says, and though she's sure he knows she's not referring to the ship, he gives her an imperceptible shrug.

"I'm in need of ships and weapons."

 _Bastard._

"You know what I mean. I don't mean Kuat. I mean _me_ , General. I have nothing further to offer you. You can negotiate with the best of them, even _I_ know _that_ much about you. So why are you prolonging this? Why do you keep a prisoner around that you don't _need_? Why not let me go? Why not just kill me?"

She'd never let him do the latter, of course. She'd kill him first, if need be. She'd kill anyone. Rey was not above killing for survival, but _only_ for survival, and that was the crux of the matter. He had made absolutely no attempt to endanger her life, and so Rey's options were to urge him and Kylo Ren to reconsider letting her go, or to escape. Her escape attempts had not gone well. Instead of answering her, the unbearable man simply replies to her question with another.

"Why would I do that?" he sets his data pad down, all attention on her now.

Somehow that question brings to mind the absolute inconceivable nature of their exchange. Yet, here they are, and he is asking her that, and Rey knows he is very serious about it. When had they stopped fighting tooth and nail and started talking like normal people? When had Rey become comfortable enough to talk to her capturers like this instead of trying to run from them?

"Because you hate me." She replies.

Again not what she had wanted to say.

"When did I say that?" and now he's the one that sounds completely incredulous. "If anything, _you're_ the one who very loudly and in no uncertain terms expressed that you hate _me_."

He's talking about that night she got drunk. Rey flushes but refuses to back down.

"You hate people _like_ me," she amends, though refuses to retract her former accusation. "People who fight for what's right, rather than for order. People who won't fall in step immediately when you command something. People who just want something tangible, like a home, and a family, rather than power and whatever it is you fight for. You hate people like _me_ , and you have no use for me specifically, other than this silly Kuat thing that I am sure you could have accomplished well enough on your own, so why?"

The words spill out of her faster than she can tell herself to stop. But once they're out, she can't take them back. Those things had been bothering her for weeks now. She thinks she understands Kylo Ren's motivation in all of this. She's known it for as long as the bond in the back of her mind has existed. Ren wanted power, true, but it was a different kind of power. He also wanted Rey out of his head just as much as she wanted him out of hers, and that proved to be its own challenge. But the General? What of him?

Hux sits there, fingers languidly hovering over his data pad as if he's forgotten about what he was previously doing, eyes trained on her face. The next words slip out of her in a murmur.

"Why have you been so gentle, when you have no reason to be?"

There.

That was the truth of it. The man had not been friendly, he had not been kind, but he had been _gentle_. In the face of their situation, when so many gorier and cruel things could have happened to her, of how much pain he could have put her through even in the face of her unwavering determination to hate him and everything he stood for, he had been gentle. It was not a _soft_ gentleness. She knew that much. It was not Finn's warmth and Poe's kindness, it was not Leia's motherly affection. It wasn't even Han's begrudging offer to give her a job and a place to belong when she had known nothing but solitude for most of her life. But it was gentleness nonetheless. And unwavering patience. Outside of Finn, with whom she'd spent a handful of days, this had been the longest she'd spent around anybody else in the universe other than her desert and Unkar Plutt, who had never been patient nor gentle.

She expects no answer though, because this is bloody General Hux she's talking to, and he gives her none. Instead he murmurs, softly, for her ears only.

"Go to sleep, Rey. You have a long day ahead tomorrow."

Rey sits there for a minute longer, daring him to force her, but he just watches her from under long eyelashes, a small frown marring his features. With a defeated sigh, Rey lifts herself out of her chair and leaves him behind. She wants to hate him for this evasion. For this and for so many other things. Yet, Rey realizes in defeat, she's not entirely sure that she can anymore.

* * *

 _Why_.

Why. Why. Why.

Hux took to his quarters after Rey's departure, dropping everything in his wake, clothes, data pad, shoes. He'd sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the opposite wall for twenty minutes.

Now he sometimes catches hints of his red hair in the mirror, of the ticking clock on the wall behind him, but his thoughts are so far away from the small room that he barely notices. He's starting to curse this trip. Between Rey of Jakku and Kylo Ren, it seemed they were both determined to strip Hux of every shred of certainty he had ever held for himself, and he couldn't even outrun them. Not inside a ship this small.

First the man had made him question his loyalties, then the woman had forced him to question his actions. His feelings; something which made Hux entirely too uncomfortable to think about. Hux runs his fingers through his usually perfectly styled hair, leaving it all mussed and very un-general-like. He rubs at his face and then slowly sets about picking up after himself, hanging his jacket neatly, folding his trousers carefully and setting his shoes by the door. The data pad he places on the small one-seat table. He's avoiding thinking, he knows. Cleaning and tidying up became crutches to him in moments like these. He couldn't help himself. He straightens the bed for the second time, fluffs his pillow. He could let a crew officer do all this. He _should_. But he doesn't. Instead he does it himself and avoids thinking. Except there's only so much room and he knows he won't be sleeping any time soon. So he lies down on his back and stares at the low ceiling instead.

 _Why_.

That single word had been rattling around in his mind for the better part of an hour. After Rey walked away he'd been left staring at her retreating back, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He hadn't stopped since.

Petulant child, demanding answers from him as though she had any right to them.

But she also had a point.

Why had he gone out of his way, gone through all this trouble, when his life could be so much easier without her in it? His fingers lace together over his chest and he makes it a point to blink every once in a while.

 _Snoke, of course,_ he answers himself and gives a self satisfied nod. He needs to get back in Snoke's graces. Snoke has not revealed all of his playing cards, he knows — though Hux itches to find out what they are — but he has the same common goal as the Order. Except they had caught the creature in a lie, and that was something Hux could not set aside. They had caught him in a lie and their last audience had only confirmed it.

Except..

Except not an hour prior to Rey's arrival he himself had been the one to propose to Kylo Ren that perhaps the Knight was being used. Which uncomfortably brought about the next thought — if Kylo Ren could be used, and by Kylo's own admission in his memory he had no doubt that he was — what kept Snoke from using _him_? He is a General, yes. He is young, and he had claimed his rank ruthlessly, climbing up through with nothing but cunning and an unwavering determination to prove to himself that he could continue his family's legacy. Yet he was not Kylo Ren. His only gifts were his mind and his ruthlessness, and at both, Hux believed Snoke far excelled over him. He was, ultimately, replaceable.

 _Why do you keep a prisoner around that you do not need?_

Hux was the first to agree he'd seen her as a pawn. A over a month and a half ago, and even now to a certain degree. Another chess piece that could move from pawn to powerful ally, something for him to move around in his schemes to achieve his goals. Was he too deep in now, as Ren believed as well? Was he a pawn on Snoke's board? He'd wanted her as a powerful ally next to him when the time came, but what if it never did?

The thought sits uncomfortably in the pit of Hux's stomach.

And _why_ had he been so gentle with Rey? It surprised him that she had seen his treatment of her that way. It had surprised him even more when he had to admit to himself that she was right. Feeding, clothing, entertaining and teaching a person about diplomacy is not how prisoners of war are meant to be treated. At least not in this war.

Hux had been nothing short of callous in his treatment of anyone who got in his way in the past, yet this slip of a girl had found her way under his skin and promptly planted herself there. He had planned to play the long game and suddenly the long game had extended itself for an indefinite amount of time. Or at least until she managed to get away, and Hux had no doubts she would at least try. She'd made that perfectly clear from the get go. So why _not_ just let her go? Why not kill her? With alarming clarity he realizes he would never be able to end her life; not like he'd threatened to in the past. So if things took the wrong turn - and Hux's chest felt heavy at the idea with something fairly like panic - he'd let her go.

Wasn't that what he had bargained for, anyway?

But her freedom wasn't up to him. It was up to Ren. Would Ren let her go? She continually said she had nothing to offer, but he had seen a glimpse of what she could achieve, both in his own ship and marked permanently on Kylo's face. She didn't know her true strength, and her quick mind was a beautiful thing.

Why was he even so _invested_ in this? He'd made so many promises to himself to not get entangled in this mess.

In the privacy of his room, Hux laughs. A low, throaty laugh. It reminds him of the few she's been able to wrangle out of him.

 _Get a hold of yourself, you fool,_ he berates himself.

A few more heartbeats pass and Hux comes down until he's breathing slowly. Then he makes up his mind, because going forward without a plan is not an option for a man like him. The 'why' stops rattling in his brain. His reason would not change. He'd want her as an ally. But the reason behind the reason shifts, because now he's determined to find out if his suspicions are true about the Supreme Leader, and he'll need all the powerful allies he can get should everything fall apart. He's worked too hard, for too long, to let it all collapse now.

Hux is not a pawn. He would not allow himself to be.

* * *

Kylo paces the minuscule room he's in. It takes him exactly three steps in any given direction and he's forced to turn around when he meets a wall, but he doesn't stop, instead he turns and paces the other way.

He'd made a mistake in showing that memory to Hux.

No, he hadn't made a mistake.

It needed to happen.

Except the man had looked at him with something so very full of pity that Kylo feels the need to rage. He didn't need anyone's pity.

He'd made a mistake in showing that memory to Hux.

But then he remembers the words that Hux had spoken, so similar to his father's that the short hairs on the back of Kylo's neck had stood up straight.

No, he hadn't made a mistake. It needed to happen.

He paces.

The General needed to understand. _He_ needed him to understand.

Three steps. Hit a wall.

Three steps. Decide it's been a mistake.

Three steps. Change of heart.

The pacing's only agitating him further and he finally gives up, yanking his tunic and undershirt off, kicking his boots to the side and falling onto the bed that is far too small for him. His legs dangle over the end of the mattress and he can only stretch his arms so far before his elbows are falling on the sides. He grunts. This would _definitely_ be a long trip to Kuat.

How could he possibly let Rey go?

Would he be able to?

 _Do you really believe that keeping her caged like a common household pet will in any way convince her to see things your way?_

Kylo grunts again, slamming his fists down on the stiff mattress. He knows the man was right. The man is always right. It infuriates Kylo. But what could he do about it then? Let her _leave_? That's preposterous. Why he had agreed to this ridiculous expedition to Kuat is beyond him. He should have demanded Hux stop immediately and kept Rey aboard the finalizer, where he could train her and show her that he was _right_. He should have intercepted when Hux had mentioned it to Snoke. He should have done something other than be led by the nose by Hux's little _plans_.

He'd thought he could convince her before this was over, but he found himself only incensed about her outright refusal to cooperate. What had she learned from Luke anyway? Absolutely nothing. The Jedi had had a chance at something so much greater than his previous failures staring him right in the eye, begging him to take a chance, and he had turned it down. The fool. And so now Kylo had the exact same chance, except _he_ was the one begging now. Like a child. Like a needy, clingy child. He hates himself for that.

What use is a student who does not want to learn? What good a powerful force wielder who does not want power? Kylo looks at his grandfather's helmet, sitting on the small table anchored to the wall.

 _Turn her. Make her yours, and you'll be stronger than you could ever imagine._

His jaw twitches and he grinds his molars so hard his jaw hurts. How could he ever accomplish such a thing?

Hux's words hit him once more. The woman was strong headed and refused to bend, refused to be taught. Refused to see things his way and become powerful with him. How was he to complete his training that way? To fulfill his grandfather's vision?

 _Do you think, perhaps, that is exactly what the Supreme Leader is hoping for?_

His blankets bunch in his fists as he yanks, his arms shaking. Then he's letting them fall as he takes in a deep breath. Is he being used? Yes, he knows. Somehow his father's words rang true, and Hux had only but confirmed that suspicion by pointing out what Kylo had not wanted to see. He'd been so entangled in his desire to be _more_ , to be something other than what he'd been all the way to this point — a weak leftover of his family's gigantic galactic legacy, too weak to be more for their sake — that he knows he'd made himself blind to the glaring truth that he was disposable.

So much. He has sacrificed so much, given up so much, done so many things he would receive no forgiveness for. For what? To be disposed of? Kylo thinks of Rey, somewhere aboard this ship, and a sharp shard lodges itself in his spine. Would Rey be his replacement? He tries to imagine a world in which Rey is Snoke's right hand as Kylo has been. He would salivate over that image if only he could see himself in it, too, but his mind has painted him a stark alternative reality.

He stares at his grandfather's helmet. He doesn't think he would oppose serving at Rey's heel - a dangerous, dark thought - but he could not abide to be used and discarded after all he'd been through. Would the Supreme Leader lie to him? Once, he hadn't thought that possible. Once, Snoke had been his kindred. Yet Hux had caught the Supreme Leader in a lie. It had been so small… making both men assume that he had known Rey had been captured all along. Such a small, passing remark to both men. Yet it had been a lie. A small lie, but from small lies bloom much bigger ones. He should get up now and go to her and cut her down, and be worthy of his title as Knight of Ren by removing anything and anyone trying to get in his way. But he won't, because the force bond thrums and hurts on his end again at the thought and he realizes even if he could kill her, he never would. He'd lose a part of himself if he did, and he had already lost so much, sacrificed so much.

If Snoke thought him disposable, then perhaps letting her go would be the best thing that happened to both her and Kylo himself.

If the Supreme Leader doesn't know everything, then he wouldn't know it either when he believed that she had escaped. Kylo would know if she's captured again. She had practically embedded herself in his consciousness, unbudging no matter how hard he tried to dislodge her. He'd always know of her as long as she stayed alive. He could send her off to the unknown regions, to a place where she could never be found, and she'd gain her freedom and he'd gain… what? What would he gain?

Quiet. Peace. Or as much peace as a man like him could get.

Kylo stands up from his uncomfortably cramped little bed and throws a black shirt on. He forgoes his shoes for the sake of stealth as he pads out of his room and into the cold hallways of the ship. A few minutes later, he's hesitating in front of the General's room. He nearly turns around to leave. What a stupid idea this was. But then Kylo steels himself and knocks. There's silence.

He throws out his awareness, looking for the man's signature inside, and finds it where he knows a bed would be. Asleep, perhaps? He does turn to leave then. Except a few seconds later the door is hissing open and a disheveled general is staring back at him with a minute frown, looking much like Kylo himself: Hair in a state of total disarray, a sleeveless undershirt on, trousers wrinkled and no shoes on.

"Ren?" he asks, unbelieving.

To be fair, Kylo's unbelieving that he's even standing there facing Hux.

He gives a tiny shrug as explanation for the oddity, then steps forward.

"Could we talk?"

That's the most civil he's ever been in demanding anything from anyone. He had asked, this time. He blames it on exhaustion. Hux registers this too, because he's standing aside and letting Kylo walk through. The door shuts and the two men are standing in ridiculously small quarters, forced to a few feet between them because there's nowhere else to move. Fine. He'd make it quick.

"What is your plan, Hux?" he asks.

Hux doesn't need to ask what he's talking about.

"Let her go," is all he says, and Kylo stomps on the desire to fling something with frustration. He crosses his arms in front of him instead. His arms nearly brush the General's undershirt.

"Then what?" he asks, hoping for dear hope that this is not a colossal mistake.

"Let her go," Hux tilts his head, "then let her come back on her own terms. We can't do anything if she's unwilling… but if she comes back, if she comes back then we have a chance."

"Why?" He asks, tone particularly devoid of any emotion. Hux simply smiles. It's a sad thing, a tired thing. A semblance of a smile. It's the first he's ever seen on the redhead's face.

"Because we need her," he murmurs.

 _We_.

Kylo rolls that around his mouth, tasting the sound.

"We need her," he replies, and it's neither a question nor an assent. Yet he knows, deep down, that they do.

Kylo tries not to concentrate on what Hux could possibly ever need her for, because it would send his mind down dangerous pathways, and that has never proven to be a good idea. And yet, part of him only hopes that she'll disappear. That she'll step out of his life the same way she'd stepped in, and cease to exist except for the glowing thread inside his awareness. He doesn't say this to Hux; the man would have to learn how to deal with her absence when the time came for his machinations just as Kylo would need to learn to deal without her in his plans for something greater. This is a way to that mean.

Then Hux is speaking and the world somehow stops.

"Do you trust me?"

Those four words.

He blinks, unsure of whether he's heard wrong.

Those four words have moved mountains.

Those four words have built and brought down empires.

Those four words could very well be the death of him.

Kylo nods.

* * *

 **What do you think? Please review! I love hearing from you guys.**

 **Author's note:** I wish I could link things here to outside sources but it seems FFN doesn't let me soooo I'm going to put down the glossary and, if you'd guys like to know more, please look them up on wookiepedia!

 **Glossary:**

Raider Class Corvette - a starship manufactured by Kuat Drive Yard. looks a little like a star destroyer!  
Dejarik - A game like chess but with holographic creatures that beat each other to a pulp.

A giant thanks to Yoon, Capri, and YouMissedMeRight for the lovely comments! I'm so, so glad you guys are enjoying my crazy fic, haha.  
YMMR: That was the best song ever ;p thank you!  
Capri: I am giddy that you love Hux. I love him too, that bastard.  
Yoon: HAH! So many things will bite Kylo in the ass. So, so many.


	13. Block

A HUGE thank you for your comments in the last chapter and all the new readers! those reviews made my day. Thank you so much, guys, your kind words keep me going. I hope to hear from you again.

Here's the next chapter!

 _Rey struggles in the training room, but then again, when doesn't she?_

* * *

No one brings up the events of their first day aboard the corvette. In fact, they all walk on eggshells around each other for the next three days. Rey avoids Hux's eyes and Kylo avoids her gaze and Hux seems to have decided that outside of lessons and meals, neither one of them exists. He'd lock himself up in his room or spend his time on the bridge, while Rey stayed in her own small quarters studying and Kylo Ren hogged the training room, constantly pounding away at the training dummies in lieu of slicing them down with a saber because they'd need them to train on. This arrangement suited them all fine, except that on a ship so small, they eventually would have to run into each other. Tensions had risen to an all time high.

Rey shows up to the training room at seven like Kylo had demanded to find the man already warming up by himself against some poor stuffed dummy, as expected. She watches him from afar. He's in a t-shirt and loose trousers and Rey has to do a double take. She's so used to him in robes that she forgot that under all that black fabric there is skin and - to Rey's frustrated surprise - a whole lot of corded muscle. He must have sensed her standing there, but refuses to look at her until she approaches. She refuses to look at him, period. After the time she'd pushed into his mind and seen that memory between him and General Hux, she'd made sure to keep her bodily distance from him at all times, engaging only when necessary.

She still flushed every time she thought about it, had flushed when thinking of it in the shower, on Hux's couch, while eating meals by herself quietly in the morning, while locked in her tiny room aboard this ship.

She berates herself.

It had been those fingers. Those beautiful, graceful fingers that she had taken to staring at so often when he wasn't looking. The way he'd toy with his gloves when he thought no one was watching, the way he held onto his glass of wine, and how he held his cigarette to his lips like an open invitation, the way he uncurled them for her to take. Rey gulps and stares at Kylo as he punches into another practice dummy. And then this man's neck… dotted with beauty marks and cradled in a bed of beautiful black hair. She gulps empty air again.

Who is she to wonder about it anyway? Rey may have become friendly with the redhead and polite if necessary with the towering man in the training room, but that doesn't give her any right to their private lives. Much like with Phasma, however, she's starting to wonder if she'd been getting in the way of their… _needs_. Rey bites her tongue to keep from flushing, the sting pushing that blasted warmth away that had started creeping up her spine, resolute to keep from entangling herself with the love lives of her captors even as her body frustratingly responded every time she thought of it.

They stand in silence for a couple of heartbeats before Rey starts feeling a little uncomfortable.

"So…training…" she begins.

Kylo nods silently while looking over her shoulder. She frowns. Gently she reaches out across the bond but meets nothing but silence.

"Today we'll start on levitating," he finally speaks.

Rey's eyes widen. She'd use the _Force_?

"You mean you're not teaching me to blow up things?"

She's kidding, of course. They had spent so long on combat - mostly to tire her - and blocking, that she thought she'd never be taught how to use the Force. She's far too excited to be snippy at the man. He doesn't think she is, though.

His eyes land on her again and the look he gives her feels like getting dunked in ice water. Her good mood evaporates immediately.

"Alright," she continues, "Levitating it is."

He says nothing and walks to the middle of the room, taking up his usual sitting position. When she moves to sit in front of him Kylo shakes his head and pats the place next to him, far enough away to indicate that she isn't to sit closer than necessary. Rey plops down with a few feet of space in between them, sighing in relief. Then something happens. He's digging into his pocket and bringing out pebbles.

"Pebbles?" Rey asks, features scrunching up in confusion.

Kylo places them in a line in front of her.

"This is Jedi training," his tone's so sour when he says those words that she forces her eyes up to meet his. He continues, "But they're good basics regardless. So we'll start you here."

He nods, more to himself than for her, and points at each one of them.

"Your goal is to levitate them one by one, then all at once, then you will stack them neatly atop each other."

Rey figures this would be easy. She remembers pulling Luke's lightsaber to her. These pebbles are tiny by comparison—

She spends the next three days staring murder at the little stones without success.

Every once in a while Rey throws her arms in the air in a huff, once her brain aches and her limbs hurt from kneeling and frustration simmers up to a boil. By the third day she lets out a frustrated scream that makes Kylo smile despite himself. She catches it.

"So you _do_ behave like a human every once in a while?" She barbs, far too annoyed at this whole exercise in futility to watch her tone.

He simply smiles wider but says nothing, pointing back at the pebbles.

When she crosses her arms and refuses to obey he narrows his eyes and she feels a small tendril of power, like a single long finger, wrapping around her jaw and directing her eyesight back to the pebbles. Their bond sparks to life and she inhales sharply. It's been the first time in weeks that he's opened up to her in any way. She opens up her own end without thinking, perhaps a little too eager.

 _Go on, Rey. Concentrate._

Rey huffs, and the tendril of Force around her jaw dissipates.

 _Easy for you to say,_ Lord _I can hold a bloody running ship in space with my damn mind._

Kylo smirks and closes his eyes, turning back to his incessant meditation. The link goes quiet, though not entirely silent. This time she feels it like a warm buzz inside of her awareness.

That night she tells Hux all about it over lessons, entirely disregarding his attempts to bring her back to the technical bits of Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer ships, something she'd need to know if she was going to be demanding that the Kuati make them two new ships in a year. Rey _loves_ ships. She had been looking forward to this lesson for days. But now she was here she couldn't concentrate on ion cannons and hyperdrive scanners when she had spent three damn days out of her kriffing mind over _pebbles_.

She says as much in a very colorful manner.

Despite himself, Hux smiles as well, clearly amused if a little exasperated by her refusal to concentrate.

And that's all it takes for them to slip back into something resembling normalcy, which is to say neither one of them is trying to kill each other or behave like the other two do not exist. Rey unknowingly managed to part the gloomy clouds with her little pebbles rant. Business returns to normal aboard the corvette on their way to Kuat, or, as normal as business can be… all things considered. At least for a handful of days.

* * *

He could stop training her now that he'd made up his mind, he promises himself for days, but there are appearances to keep. The ship still has a crew, and crews had eyes and ears, and mouths that reported to Snoke. She would also need to know how to _truly_ defend herself, from her own powers as well as others', so he trains her.

Instead of beating each other to a pulp in order to tire her out, Kylo starts Rey on combat forms against a training dummy. He'd tried instructing her with a practice staff, holding it much like she would a single-source saber, but it became quickly apparent that she was far more comfortable with a long-staff. So he'd decided instead that he'd work with her strengths rather than against them. Once she got to build her own saber — if she got to build her own saber — it would have to be a double ended lightsaber. She could wield a regular saber, true, he had seen it with his own eyes on a snowy battlefield, but she shone like the sun when allowed to wield a staff.

The training was rigorous. He refused to make it easy on her, and they trained for hours on end until it was time for her lessons with Hux. He'd taught her the basics of Shii-Cho, but she'd caught up on the rudimentary motions quickly enough, the moves coming as second nature to her from years of wielding weapons to defend herself. So instead he put her through the paces starting with the second form, the Makashi form, but it quickly became apparent that it was ill suited for Rey's fighting style, needing her weapon to be held in front of her most of the time with minimum swirl — not what she'd need for a double ended saber. Still, he put her through the paces.

Rey swung and slammed her weapon into the dummy as he circled both her and the stuffed victim, eyes looking for any inconsistencies. Whenever she'd do something wrong he's push on her back with the butt of his staff to intercept her blow and force a stop, then step in to correct elbows, knees, and general posture. Again and again until she dripped with sweat, muscles straining in her lithe arms from exertion. Rey seemed to slip into a place of concentration that surprised him. Where she could never sit still for meditation, her mind immediately became a single pinprick when she concentrated with near tunnel vision. This would serve her well. She didn't complain, and that only made it easier. At the end of the day he would fight her, forcing her to use the techniques she'd learned.

She manages a knock or two to any one of his limbs and he smiles.

She's a quick learner. Her payment for her progress is getting to levitate more things, which she absolutely hates. Kylo smirks every time.

 _So eager to fight._

He guards his side of the bond and his thoughts carefully from her, ensuring that her concentration is unbroken, and it leaves him to think freely. To think freely _of_ her.

He watches as she grunts against the stuffed dummy, pushing and hitting and generally ignoring him unless he steps in for corrections. When she brings her staff down he clanks his own against it and pushes her back slightly.

"Again. Elbow's too high."

She gives him a stern look but does it again. Again. Again. Until her elbow comes up just right, level with her shoulder. He gives a short, satisfied nod and allows her to continue. He tilts his head as he circles her again, watching her unwavering determination. He likes that about her. It serves her well.

"Again."

This time he corrects a turn, pursing his lips as he steps behind her and his body wraps into hers, long arms bending when her elbows cradle into the crook of his arms, large hands engulfing her much smaller fists, slowly swirling the staff over her head and his. And it would be fine, except that she's too close and he can feel her heart beating through her ribcage from exertion against his own chest, and her torso's pressed into his a little too tightly when the staff swings in front of her. Her breathing's coming in short, shallow puffs of air and his is all but non-existent by now. He guides her strike then steps back quickly, swallowing hard on empty air and clearing his throat.

Rey looks over her shoulder, having recovered far faster than he ever could, and arches an eyebrow at him. He knocks her elbow up with his staff.

"Concentrate."

Rey grunts something at him and he feels her return to her tunnel vision concentration. He gives himself a small mental shake and takes a deep breath through gritted teeth. If she can focus then so can he.

They go through the hours like this until it's almost time for her to leave and meet Hux. He grabs her weapon from her hand and she surprisingly lets him, and it's such a small amount of trust when so many days ago he would have had to pry it out of her cold, dead fingers. It's something. He'll take it. He drops the weapons off then drops into a sitting position for meditation, pulling out three small pebbles. Rey arches an eyebrow at him.

"I thought I already tried that?" she asks, petulant as ever.

"And you'll try it again."

Rey huffs and the bond sends him an undignified curse, angry at the inane exercise. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He seemed to be doing that an awful lot lately. She ambles towards him with a hip swaying gait that does uncomfortable things to his chest and he berates himself for staring, choosing instead to school his face to stony nonchalance when she reaches him and stares down at him from where she stands.

"Why?"

Kylo looks at her and arches an eyebrow. Anyone looking from the outside would only see a giant man kneeling before a petite girl as if she owned him. He pushes that thought out of his mind as well.

"Why what?"

"Why do I have to do it again?" she asks, exasperated. He probes through the force bond only to feel her annoyance. Were he anyone else he'd roll his eyes. So impatient. Yet he couldn't. Not when it took every ounce and drop of patience he had just to sit there and watch her, to be the teacher she needed, rather than what he wanted to be.

 _Because I said so._

Rey's lips purse into a thin line until they're nearly invisible.

 _That's not a good enough reason_ , she fires back.

They'd slipped into this so easily over the last few days. Falling in and out of conversations started with words and continued on with a slight narrow of the eyes, an imperceptible frown, a tensing of limbs and fisting of fingers as they fired back through the bond instead.

 _Do you want to learn or don't you?_

Rey takes a deep breath and grits her teeth. There's a small grumble in her throat that he feels like an echo in his own. He can feel her this way when her emotions spike. He remembers the thick dullness of drunkenness when her escape plan had backfired and she'd been consumed with anger, he remembers seeing through her eyes that night in Hux's room when she'd woken up in a panic, that first flash of awareness when their bond had connected and her emotions had rioted. It felt like a disembodied part of him coursed through her limbs and returned to him to give him the feedback. He stares up at her, waiting for her reply.

With a grunt, she drops in front of him ungracefully and glares, but then she concentrates on the unmoving bits of stone. While her eyes concentrate on the pebbles he concentrates on her face.

"Close your eyes," he orders. Her gaze flies up to him.

"What?"

"Do as you're told."

Rey's fingers bunch on her trousers.

"That's _really_ annoying, you know that, right?" she hisses through clenched teeth. "You can't just tell me to do things without telling me why!"

"I can do whatever I want, Rey, and you'll listen if you want to learn," he growls back, his leash on his patience immediately shortening. She'd try him and push him and defy him every step of the way and Kylo kept extending the leash he kept on his patience, but every once in a while it would snap back. He sighs, about to explain that she needs to look for it inside her. She can't just stare her way into making the Force obey when—

For the hundredth time, Rey pushes further.

"No."

His eyes narrow slightly and he has to fight his instinct to bunch up his fists where they rest on his lap.

He can't.

"What did you say?"

"I said no."

He inhales deeply as they fight through their usual staring match. Were she _anyone_ else, he would have long taken to a lightsaber and ended this right here. Were she anyone else, and his grandfather's words any different; were he anyone else…

He could sense how ready she was to move past this stage. She _itched_ to move on, to start fighting with a saber, to get to the good part where she could lift and stop ships in space, throw people out of her path - preferably him - and freeze people like she'd seen him do on Takodana. She would also preferably do that to him as well. He resists the urge to smile. She doesn't seem to realize these skills are strictly used by those who pledge themselves to the darkness. Oh, sure, Luke Skywalker could do it if his hand was forced. He _had_ trained under Kylo's grandfather for a while, after all, but Jedi felt themselves too saintly to use the Force to its full capacity. That's how they'd all ended up dead.

He'd also felt a block on Rey. Those first few days when she'd cursed every constellation in space over three pebbles, he'd felt through their mutual bond that Rey struggled to grasp the Force. Oh, she'd accessed it plenty of times in situations of danger, in situations where she felt threatened and her feelings spiked again - something that drove him insane, he who thrived on raw feelings of anger and fear - but when she tried to access it willingly, she struggled. Her awareness refused to access the well of power unless she was in danger, and three pebbles posed no danger to her, no threat. He decides to test a theory.

Kylo throws his senses out and brushes her mind. Rey stiffens the same way she always does, but she's used to his intrusions by now. He means her no harm, so she lets her walls drop, carefully guarding that which she does not want seen. He picks the most innocuous of memories.

Like a true child of the Light, her use of the Force had been used to protect and defend against intruders, with only just enough Force leaking through that her true powers lay dormant until she'd truly needed to fight for her life.

The force had aided her when she'd needed to protect herself on the desert as she unknowingly pushed her powers into her staff during skirmishes. She'd sent power to her limbs to help her run faster when her opponent was too big for her to take on. She'd tapped into it to escape from a stormtrooper guard. He looks as memories of their first encounters bubble up to the surface unbidden… she'd used it as a shield to defend against intruders. To defend against his intrusions. He'd met a wall back then. This time, when he pursues that memory, Rey's shoulders quiver and—

He can feel her trying to instinctively access the Force. To protect. He feels the swell of power bubbling up inside of him like a phantom of her own. He probes further, urging that power to overflow its small pool inside of her, to break the dam, to attack rather than defend, his temple throbbing from the effort. Rey starts to panic and he breathes in deeply. He can't tell her what he's doing just yet, or she'll simply relax and it'll all be over. He pushes.

One push.

 _Confusion._

Another push.

 _Resistance._

Another push.

 _Defiance._

She's so close. So close to letting the Force take over to defend and attack against the intrusion; to stop using it as shield and instead wield it as a weapon.

Kylo pushes one last time. Hard.

 _Panic._

A wall meets him like an iron curtain at the same time Rey throws up another set of walls and cuts their connection, his awareness returning to him like a tightly coiled spring flinging back.

She scrambles back.

The whole thing took less than a split second, and in that split second he'd gone from being a reluctantly welcomed presence in her mind to being shoved out. Yet for an exhaled breath that still lingered between them, he'd felt her block. That iron curtain so different from her usual defenses, the ones she'd learned from him. It was there, sitting quietly in the back of her mind. A silent centurion, guarding her access to the Force.

Rey tries to scramble to her feet but he's faster. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, her knees landing hard between the spread of his own.

"We're not done yet," he states, trying his best to keep his voice unaffected.

She tries to yank her wrist out but his grasp is firm, strong, and her hand so much smaller than his. He engulfs her slender wrist like a giant cupping a flower. One hard squeeze would be all he'd need to snap her wrist in two. Were she anyone else…

Were she anyone else, he already would have. Kylo Ren was not a man to accept defiance, and Rey was nothing but defiance, but he had to see her through this. He had to see _himself_ through this.

He holds her there and she glowers at him, tense and so very ready to kill him where he kneels.

"Stop doing that!" she screams into his face, twisting and writhing to try and get away from him.

"No," he says, because what he wants to say is for her to stop fighting him, but then he tightens his hand around her wrist and she lets out a little whimper. She only struggles harder.

He holds his breath and tugs her wrist closer to him, and she yanks back so hard for a second he worries she might pop her shoulder out of its socket, but she only keeps twisting. Her other hand comes to wrap around his fist, trying helplessly to pry herself out of his grasp. He tightens his hold.

"Let. Me. Go." She bites, yanking and tugging and starting to get physical when her hand stops trying to pry his fingers apart and instead bunches into a fist in his tunic, trying to push him away.

Then he feels it. A tiny pinprick in the back of her mind. The centurion guarding her starts inching slowly away as she slips into the defense, as her feelings start making waves rather than ripples. He smiles.

"Make me," he replies languidly.

She bares her teeth and he only tightens. Just enough. His eyes go to her fingers, ensuring her blood's still circulating, but his grip is relentless. His other hand flies up to grab her other hand and then she's pinned under his grip, making it harder for her to try and remove him. Her hands bunch into fists, both to yank away and to jerk forward to try and connect a punch to his jaw. His legs fly out to pin hers under his knees until she can't squeeze out by standing. They're a mess of tight grips and bunched fists, of arms and elbows as he dominates her and she fights back.

"Fight me, Rey," he murmurs, leaning closer. He brushes the tip of his nose lightly against hers, against his better judgement. Her breath tickles the corners of his mouth and he has to fight the urge to lean in closer, and he eggs her on to fight his hold over her with a hard gaze.

" _Fight_ me."

So she does.

One moment he's got her pinned down with arms and legs and the next he's flying across the room and slamming into a back wall with a sickening thud. His body falls forward from the impact where his back had bounced; he falls face first with barely enough time to brace himself to where he lands hard on his forearms. He can hear the echoes of her angry scream when she'd sent him flying bouncing around the room, ragged pants matching his own pained grunts. His head is down and his hair falls like a curtain around him, nose almost brushing the floor and Kylo grins. It unfurls slowly, starting at the corners of his mouth, spreading until all his teeth show. A satisfied, proud grin that's hidden behind a cascade of black locks, one he's glad she can't see.

Oh, she may be made of Light, but she would never be a slave to it.

When he rights himself after a few panted breaths, trying to get his lungs to re-engage and schooling his expression from borderline giddy to something more befitting the moment, Rey's eyes meet him wide and bright. She's kneeling exactly where he'd left her, knees spread lightly and palms upwards on her thighs where they'd fallen. He sucks in a breath and forces his mind to concentrate, stumbling his way back to her and resuming his kneeling position, resting his weight back on his calves. She tracks his every step, his every move, but doesn't twitch, watching him silently until he's settled back in front of her.

"Now, do it again," he orders, bracing himself for being thrown across the room but fairly sure the push won't come.

Rey stares intently at him as if trying to make it happen but he remains in his seat, taking shallow breaths and his muscles tense instinctively.

Nothing happens. Not this time. He's not gripping onto her now.

She frowns.

"Why can't I do it now?"

Her question is half a demand and half a small frustrated whine. Kylo brings up a hand and rubs at the back of his head where it had bounced against the wall. The sting is like a shock of electricity to his nervous system. There's a tiny trickle of something damp on his scalp. He ignores it. He'd suffered worse. His fingers come away sticky and red and Rey's eyes glance down at his digits with flashing panic, so he intercepts her thought before it can get started.

"You're blocked," he supplies. Her frown deepens.

"What?" she asks, incredulous.

"You're blocked," he repeats, "Your access to the Force, it's blocked."

"What?" she croaks again, but this time it's not incredulity veiling her face but something like panic and fear. And hurt.

"You're only able to access it when your subconscious triggers you into fight or flight situations so you can defend yourself. Without that variable, your attempts are useless."

She stares at him, and the moment is suspended in time for just a breath, then—

—Rey's expression sags, puzzle pieces slowly falling apart one by one from the whole, eyebrows tilting up in the saddest look he'd ever seen on anyone's face, lips going slightly slack, nostrils flaring. He locks his eyes on her, frowning.

"Useless…" she repeats, pinning her gaze on the ground as she fights to avoid his. His head inches down and forward a hair's width to catch the tiny glint of dampness on her lashes.

"Rey," he starts, but she takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Then she laughs. And if the universe could come up with a bigger paradox it would be the sound of Rey's pained laugh — throaty and bell-like all at the same time, light and sad all in one. Her shoulders slump under her weight as she throws her head back and her laugh mingles with a hitched-up rasp that quickly turns into a sob. She brings up a hand and covers her eyes and despite her laughter Kylo's chest constricts because she's crying, and her heart's breaking into pieces in front of him and he doesn't know why. He tries to grab onto those pieces, collecting them as fast as they fall, but there's too many, and Rey's half-laugh, half-sob turns into full crying as she repeats the word ' _Useless_.'

Kylo inches forward, ready to pull her into his lap and curl up around her, to try and be the glue to hold her together in that moment, when her hand comes down and she looks at him with quickly reddening eyes.

She laughs again, and this time it's nearly manic yet relieved.

"See? I told you. You're wasting your time."

He clamps his jaw shut and watches her intently with a frown.

"Rey," he warns, but she puts up a hand to his chest when he inches closer.

"No, no. You just confirmed it for yourself. I'm useless. And why would you train a useless thing? A nobody?"

That's it.

He short leash he'd kept on his temper, that he'd been so proud to keep all these days, snaps with him.

With a growl he grabs her wrist again and pulls her closer, the one he'd so badly manhandled not that long ago, as the other grabs her chin and forces her to look at him. He nearly snarls the words into her face.

"Would you stop calling yourself a nobody?"

Rey purses her lips but the small little sob that rips through her throat belies any hardness she might have tried to display, and in that moment he remembers how young she is. Her face is that of a child. A small, breakable child. One he'd never been able to see in the face of the fierce woman she'd always been around him, one that looks so much like the face of a young raven haired boy once upon a time. He sighs and lets go of her hand, reaching up instead to rub his thumb on her cheek. His other hand releases her chin and inches to her temple, lightly removing stray little hairs and tucking them behind her ear. Her lower lip is trembling and Kylo realizes that this is the most vulnerable she's ever allowed herself to be around him. Even more so than the first time she'd beat him to a pulp after he'd arrived on the Finalizer. Her eyes immediately move down, staring at her hands as though they hold every answer for her.

"Rey," he murmurs softly, trying to keep the pleading edge from his voice that still comes out when he continues, "Rey, look at me."

Her eyes rise reluctantly and she looks up at him through the tear stained spider webs of her lashes. So vulnerable and easy to break.

Were she anyone else, he'd use that to his advantage. Were she anyone else, he would have used that weakness against her by now…

He rubs his thumb on the hollow under her cheekbone, swallowing before he speaks, daring to ask too much and expecting little.

" _Why_ do you keep doing that?"

Rey tenses and looks at him in the eye for the first time.

She's about to run. It's her instinct to fly away, to run and protect herself. Her own Force signature betrays that instinct despite the mask she's trying to wear, her own inability to access her powers unless she's in danger the very same reason they're kneeling there so closely. He watches the hardening of her eyes, feels the tensing of her jaw as she clenches it, hears the void left behind as she holds her breath. He swallows again, unmoving, scared to shift and send her flying.

Rey shudders imperceptibly and whatever steel she'd pushed into her spine melts away under his hands, and he thinks no one's ever asked her what she felt, or why, and that's the only reason she's relenting now. She sags into herself and whispers.

"No one wants useless things… Useless things are always left behind and abandoned like the old, useless ships rusting away in the desert," she murmurs, her words jagged shards of glass cutting into him, "and a useless person is a nobody."

"Rey," he croaks, but he can't allow himself another word.

Not when she'd taken a knife and twisted it inside of him and made him feel something he'd never felt before. Sympathy and pain for someone else.

He sits there and feels her sadness and anguish leaking through the bond into his mind, mingling with his own despair for her and his anger at the sudden revelation until it blends into toxic soup.

He tries to force himself to untangle himself from her feelings, to pull back and guard his own mind, but how could he? Their bond would not allow it. Not now. Kylo receives flashes of memories that she projects, too sad to notice she's doing it. A ship flying away, leaving her behind. So many more ships watched from a distance in longing. A wall of thousands of knicks where she'd marked her endless days. An ugly creature telling her her hard work was worth less today than it had been yesterday as it handed her her meager scraps with a leer. Her feelings of not being good enough to earn a meal so many times. Of being useless. Being told no one was coming back for her. A collection of rejections and wounds that slowly threaten to chip away all of her spirit, and a girl too stubborn to let it consume her despite her want to curl up and just let it take her. A Jedi rejecting her…

He doesn't pry into her memories, purposely blocking the barrage she'd unknowingly pushed his way, scared to see more. He can't pry, because if he did, he'd force Hux to turn the kriffing ship around and make it his personal goal to find every single person who ever made her feel useless, _a nobody_ , and strike them down where they stood. The fact that he knows he would without hesitation scares him just as much. His strong little scavenger, reduced to this.

So instead of doing what he always does, which is to go on a manhunt and avenge every wrong-doing and every slight, he collects her by the shoulders into him and wraps his arms around her small frame, adjusting his knees to cradle her and cocoon her. She doesn't want it. She doesn't want pity.

So he gives her none. He simply sits there and holds her, and she doesn't want it… but she gives into it anyway because it's the closest thing to comfort and warmth she's felt in months.

 _Rey._

Rey who would never let her guard slip. Rey who would never allow him even an inch. Rey slowly unspools and buries her face in the crook of his neck, and her chest rocks with silent crying so he holds her closer. And she whispers into his mind, _just this once,_ and what is he to do but agree?

 _Alright._

Tomorrow she'll bring her carefully crafted walls back up around herself and reject him, and he'll let her. And he'll let her leave when the time comes and he'll end his association with her as he'd decided to, with only a soft glow in the back of his mind for a reminder that she was ever in his life, that and a memory of a constellation of freckles. But for now he feels the dampness of her tears on his neck, and she cries silently to herself until she's spent and her breathing starts to come back down, and for now that's enough. What is one small kindness for a girl who'd be leaving his life soon anyway?

He'd become soft. He would pay for that someday.

But that was not this day. This day, letting her cry herself to sleep on his shoulder is enough.

He collects her in his arms much like he had on Takodana and exists the training room. As he turns the corner he comes into view of a certain redhead. The man stops midstep and frowns, his eyes traveling from his face to Rey's sleeping one then back.

"What happened?" Hux asks, voice curiously devoid of feeling, taking three long strides until he's standing inches from where Rey rests in his arms. Kylo says nothing.

"I swear, Ren, if you—"

"If I what, General?" Kylo asks with an arched eyebrow, too emotionally spent to deal with this nonsense.

Hux senses it and clamps his mouth shut, giving him one hard look before his eyes travel back to Rey's face. He watches as a minute amount of the eternal ice the man holds in his gaze melts, before he hardens again and forces himself to look up at Kylo's face. Kylo shelves that look for later inspection.

"What happened?" Hux asks again in whispered words to keep from waking her, inspecting her quickly for wounds with a roving, clinical look.

Kylo hesitates.

It's not his story to tell, and he almost says as much, then he remembers that Hux has dealt with this just as much if not more than he has, and how could he ask her to go through that again? Hux notes his ambivalence and narrows his eyes.

"What is it, Ren?" he asks, lips stiff.

Another heartbeat. Hux would never speak of it unless she was ready to, he knew.

"I now know why our scavenger seems to think she's a nobody," he murmurs, looking down at her.

Kylo carefully plants a fresh memory inside Hux's mind like he had done their first day aboard this ship. He'd berate himself for sharing his mind so willingly with the General some other time. For now it is enough that Hux would understand as well. Before him, Hux is turning to granite by the second, the only tells of his anger that of his hands fisting at his sides and the man's own version of a nervous tick. His left eye twitches once. Twice. The look he gives Rey is the closest thing to empathy Kylo's ever seen on the General before that too is kept in check under a veil of perfect detachment, a skill Hux had honed over many years.

Hux turns on his heel and motions for Kylo to follow him, clipping at a hard pace towards Rey's small room. He punches in the override code with hard jabs of his index finger, slamming his hand against the access pad before it beeps green, then stepping aside with stiff shoulders and jerky steps to let Kylo enter. There's only just enough room for him to deposit her on the bed and step back. He watches her and Hux watches them from the door, and it's the second time both men have loomed over her sleeping figure.

It wouldn't be the last, but they had no way of knowing that in this moment, too busy with their own particular brands of anger at all the ways in which the universe had taken so much from her.

When she wakes hours later, Rey goes about her lessons with Hux with red rimmed eyes and her face set in stern concentration, and Kylo watches from the distance.

By the next morning, she's back in the training room, her momentary lapse already stored away under lock and key in her mind as she'd rebuilt her walls like he knew she would, and he's glad that their scavenger is back when she throws herself into training, because who is she if not someone who rises to the challenge? She wouldn't let something like a silly block stop her, just like she had never let sand and loneliness swallow her, and he's proud of her like he's never been proud of anything; that renewed determination and her stubborn streak meant she wouldn't allow herself to break, wouldn't allow the world to break her. Luke Skywalker had been a fool to turn her down.

She doesn't bring up their incident in the training room and he pushes their embrace into the darkest depths of his mind, and everything is as it should be when he guides her into Soresu, the third form. He would guide her through all five before this trip was over, and hope she'd remember enough once she's on her own.

* * *

 **What did you think? please review!**

 **Author's note:** AHHHHH THIS CHAPTER ;-; I always get sad thinking about Rey and her belief that nobody wants her. Sigh. NOW. GUYS. THANK YOU!

SoulSpeak: YES. WE'RE HERE! Thank you so much for showing this story some love T-T I know the crowds for TFA are minute here on this website, but it's nice to see people who are excited to see me posting.

everlastingtrueromance: oh darling lol I wish there was some way to tag stories on here because this story is truly, truly a slooooowwwwww burn romance. Like... crockpot slowburn ;p And I'm very glad you're enjoying it. Thank you guys!


	14. Trust

**Back.**

She can see him out of the corner of her eye, standing there in his usual black robed ensemble. When she shows up to her lessons with Hux that evening, after having cried her eyes out in Kylo Ren's arms, the General is waiting for her with a giant mug of hot caf, loaded with cream like she's always preferred it, and what looks like a sandwich on a plate. It's definitely not regular food rations. She arches an eyebrow.

"Eat," he instructs without looking up, eyes on his data pad and finger lazily scrolling through files she can't quite read from where she stands.

She would fight him on this but sighs instead, plopping down on her seat unceremoniously, pulling the plate towards her and biting into the sandwich. Her eyes lift at the taste.

"What's in this?" she asks, curiously looking at Hux only to see him smile lightly. His eyes are still glued on his screen and he totally ignores her question, so she follows up with another question.

" _Where_ did you get this?"

She could tell there was meat in there, real meat, and some extravagantly rich cheese over buttery toasted bread. Certainly not regular ship rations. Hux shrugs, glancing up at her once before returning to his work.

"They're from one of crates being delivered to the Kuati," He offers, looking at her and quickly amending when she looks ready to balk, "There's plenty more, they won't miss a few bits of it."

Her brows hit her hairline and she blinks rapidly to avoid getting teary at yet another one of Hux's small kindnesses. He'd found her comfort food from the gifts he'd intended to deliver. No one had ever gone out of their way to do that for her. No one had also held her while she cried her heart out. Rey chances a glance out of the corner of her eye only to find Kylo sitting regally on a chair staring out into space from the small paneled window, so she lowers her head with a muttered thank you to the General and bites down into her sandwich.

Hux is watching her intently from under long lashes. She can feel them pressing into her. Yet every time she looks up his eyes fly right back to the screen of his data pad. Rey bites back a sigh. She's too tired to fight him or anyone else in that moment. Let him stare. She takes her time with her food and he's surprisingly happy to let her take it, patiently and silently minding his work, even if it's cut an hour into their lessons already and she's nursing her mug of caf for all it's worth. Kylo is still quietly sitting by the observation window, plainly ignoring them both, though she sometimes feels pangs of something like rage emanating through the bond before he quickly gets a hold of it and shuts it down. She carefully keeps her eyes either on her food or ahead of her. Kylo Ren had already seen far more than she was willing to admit having shared with anyone; she didn't want him seeing the rims of her reddened eyes, or the way her shoulders slumped over her drink.

Rey doesn't want to be sitting there eating and drinking. She wanted to crawl under her bed in her tiny room and never come out. But she had made a bargain and she had her end of it to uphold, so here she sits with General Hux instead, who keeps looking at her curiously. His gaze keeps flipping from his version of warm and kind to icy cold every time his eyes travel from her face to somewhere far away behind her head — as if remembering something distasteful — only to flick back to her and defrost into their usual crystalline blue calm. The second one is always a look reserved for her, she'd noticed. Rey frowns and he offers her a small smile.

"How was it?" he asks.

She knows he's diverting her from asking him about the sudden shifts in mood, smart intuitive man that he is, and she sighs into her mug. She's too tired to make the effort to even try.

"It was great, thank you. You didn't have to."

"You looked like you could use it," is all he gives her, before sliding his data pad to the middle of the table. "Ready to start?"

Rey stares at the contents of her mug, mostly drained now, inspecting the small amounts of brown caf swirling at the edges of the otherwise creamy drink.

"Rey?"

His voice cuts through her thoughts and she looks up with a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

Hux purses his lips for a moment then gives a curt nod, and Rey decides it's time to put the events of the last twenty four hours behind as if they never happened.

* * *

 **Forward.**

Rey throws herself into training like she'd never tried before, fighting now not against the external annoyance that is Kylo Ren, but the internal knowledge that she now had one more roadblock to overcome. That had been the story of her life, one kriffing challenge after another, and her mind immediately did what it always does best: find the best way to beat whatever tried to hold her back.

Ren thankfully kept his thoughts to himself regarding her crying episode, demanding more effort from her now that she showed a willingness to truly work with him this time. She begrudgingly found herself respecting him for the effort he made to give her her personal space regarding her emotional breakdown, never asking, never pushing, and treating her training with clinical professionalism. She also had to begrudgingly admit he was a good teacher.

He puts her through combat forms and when she grumbles one day that it's useless to know these forms without actually wielding a lightsaber, he whacks her wrist and tells her she'll get a lightsaber when she _earns_ it. Rey growls, but it only makes her work harder. She knows Kylo's still in possession of Luke's old saber, the one that the Jedi had refused to pick up. She asks him as much, he doesn't answer. Rey sighs and continues training. Even if he had it with him, she doubts she'd get to see it. Still, learning combat forms keeps her from agonizing about other things — like what she's going to do if or when she finally breaks free, and why every time she thinks about it in front of either one of these two men, unease curls around her ribcage and squeezes. So she lets Kylo Ren impart his lessons and soaks them up, and in a matter of days things start turning a little less antagonistic; enough for her to finally relax a hair.

By the seventh night aboard the ship Rey believes space has opened and the Maker had decided to play a prank when just as she and the General are sitting down to dinner — relatively small portions of ship rations, meant to be filling rather than full of flavor — Kylo shows up to the large round table. Being Ren and needing zero permission to do anything, he plops himself down until all three of them are sitting in the semblance of a triangle.

Rey stops and stares at him when he starts digging into his ration, head bent low over his quiet chewing. Hux keeps eating, not even bothering to acknowledge Kylo's presence.

She doesn't know why she says the next words when she says them. In fact, she hasn't known why she's said _anything_ the last four days, after that incident in the training room. It's ridiculous and she's painfully aware of it but the words come any way.

"So you do eat! I knew it. You couldn't possibly be undead."

Kylo stops mid bite and Hux chokes slightly on his mouthful.

"What?" Kylo finally croaks after managing to swallow his own food. His brows lift up to his hairline.

Rey should shut up _right now_ , her brain is telling her to _shut up right now_.

She doesn't.

"This is the first time I've ever seen you eat anything. I was starting to believe you ran on air and the tears of your enemies."

There's an even more pronounced choking sound coming from Hux and both Kylo and Rey turn to look at the man as he starts turning a rather unflattering shade of red. Hux thumps his chest lightly, delicately, a couple of times then grabs his glass of water and downs one third of it in one gulp. Then something like a chuckle escapes the man, low and breathy. Rey's looking at him with amusement and Kylo's sitting like a stone, but Hux keeps his head down, resolute to mind his own business as he resumes eating. Kylo returns his attention to Rey.

"Are _you_ offering your tears, scavenger?" he teases, eyes narrowed, and to Rey this feels like a warped version of her interactions with Finn, and talk of tears reminds her of their episode in the training room. Suddenly uncomfortable, she lowers her gaze and returns to her food.

This is not a Kylo Ren she's used to. She's used to moody, to volatile, to easily irritable Kylo Ren; she's used to the stories about his infamous temper tantrums. She's not used to Kylo Ren teasing her, looking so much younger than his years, and when he leans forward like that she gets a peek at his neck and her cheeks flush because all she can think of are the general's long fingers around it—

He gives her a cautious look and immediately drops the subject, sensing her distress through the bond and perhaps a bit more, and they sit around the table in silence for a while. Rey bites the inside of her cheek, hoping he hadn't seen her fantasizing about that one intimate moment between the men. Except the universe's joke isn't done yet. No, it's only starting when Kylo speaks.

Rey gets the sense that he's spent so much time in silence, meditating or avoiding her and the General outside of training - or perhaps trying to change the subject? - and he just can't help himself when he suddenly lets out a gruff:

"Millicent."

Rey looks up. Hux looks up. Kylo's looking at her.

"The tabby? What about her?"

"She despises him," Hux states matter of factly around his fork, a small self satisfied smirk surfacing. Obviously Hux enjoys that even his cat hates Ren. Rey shakes her head. This whole thing is surreal.

"She's kept me company," Rey answers before she murmurs to herself, "I hope she's okay."

"She's perfectly fine, I assure you. Phasma will take good care of her," Hux responds.

Then there's a repeat of their time standing at the hangars as Rey's ears start turning red, hoping the men don't notice. Hux's eyes don't miss a thing, though, and Kylo's lips are twisting hard, trying to bite his tongue and keep silent.

"Are you alright?" Hux asks, the food on his fork completely forgotten.

And then Kylo's guffawing — a throaty, deep, unused sound — and Hux is looking at him like he'd grown a second head. Which really, he might have, because since when does Kylo Ren _guffaw_? Hux zeroes in on the fact that Rey's face has gone even redder. She's too mortified about the whole Phasma situation to think about the fact that she's broken Kylo Ren and he wouldn't stop laughing, or that he'd instigated the whole conversation by bringing up the cat.

"Will you please say something, Rey?" Hux speaks with a tone that says he's worried and about to lose his patience all at the same time. "And _you_ , what has gotten into you, Ren?"

Rey gathers all the courage she can and wraps it around herself like a security blanket.

"I, uh…I just…" she starts, because was it just her or had the common room area suddenly become _really_ small and _really hot_? " _I just_ … "

Kylo's trying to rein in his chuckling, failing to contain it despite his best efforts, and it's making it really hard for her to concentrate on the next words, so she rushes through them.

"Well, when Phasma came to take me to training I noticed she had access to your room with her biometrics and I thought that perhaps you two — well, that perhaps I had been intruding too long and you two needed… _space_ … and I had been denying it because I know men have their needs and—"

Kylo's laugh finally booms, unable to be contained. Rey's eyes travel to the laughing man and a certain image of long fingers against a pale throat blooms in her awareness. She blushes harder. Kylo seems to be too wrapped up in his own laughter to pluck that one from her brain, for which she's thankful.

Hux is turning a few shades of tomato red.

"You…thought what?" he chokes out. There's no food obstructing his airways this time.

She wants the ship to open up and swallow her then. She wants to disappear into the ether and never be seen again by either man in front of her. In her fluster, she'd accidentally let her guard slip and Kylo had seen absolutely every single filthy image Rey had concocted in her mind over the last few weeks. There's a small damp trail along his eyelashes and she's suddenly _drowning_ in her shame.

"I know men have their needs," she repeats the explanation with conviction, but her voice is lower and meeker than she wanted it to be and she avoids looking at them and bringing up even more reasons to embarrass herself.

"Would you stop _laughing_ , Lord Ren? Control yourself," Hux snaps at Kylo, which seems to only send the other man into yet another fit of low snickering. Once he's going he sure doesn't seem to be able to stop.

This is way more than Rey had signed up for so she quietly gathers the items on her tray and gets up to leave.

"Sit _down_." Hux's voice booms, leaving no room for argument.

She glares at him but she's far too gone in her trail of shame to be able to fight him. She drops into her chair with an undignified huff. Hux takes in a deep breath, probably to compose himself; this seems to help Kylo, who's no longer laughing uncontrollably, though his eyes are bright and a small laugh-like hiccup escapes every once in a while. She still can't believe Kylo had actually laughed at anything.

This whole thing is so surreal.

"Rey, why would you think Phasma and I need… space… ?" He sounds out the last word carefully, trying his best to make it absolutely neutral.

Rey fidgets. She _really_ does not want to be there right now.

"Well, she has access to your rooms and I just thought…"

Kylo's watching this with more interest than Rey's ever seen displayed on his face and her cheeks turn red. Why did she need an _audience_ for this?

 _Yes, Rey,_ comes from the bond, _why do Hux and the Captain need space? Will you tell him?_

Rey glares at Kylo.

 _Or should I tell him about how you've pictured Hux with a helmeted Phasma in the shower?_

The thoughts Kylo's sending through the bond are positively lewd. He's laughing at her because Rey doesn't know what Phasma looks like, so she'd imagined a naked woman with a chrome helmet on. Kylo looks about to bust out in laughter again. She groans.

"Would you two _stop_ that?" Hux's irritation cuts through them both. Kylo's open face immediately shuts off as he realizes that Hux knows a bit more than he should. He frowns at Rey.

You told _him?_

Rey gives him another glare for good measure.

 _Why wouldn't I? You certainly weren't willing to talk to me about it._

"Stop it," Hux reiterates, and both force sensitives look at him.

"How much do you know?" Kylo asks, suddenly defensive. He's left the bond open and is shoving all of it towards Rey. He's displeased that Hux knows this.

It's another weakness to exploit, in Kylo's mind. Rey isn't sure whether to feel flattered or hurt that she's thought of as a weakness. Kylo's eyes flicker to her for a second in response, but then he's looking back at Hux, jaw set.

"Enough to know that you two are having a conversation about _me_ and excluding me from it, which I would like to remind you is awfully rude of you. I don't care about what special powers you two have but please don't include me in them."

Kylo says nothing and Rey fidgets, feeling the air turning sour on a dime. Then Kylo seems to remember something and closes the bond to her, leaving her near gaping at the void left behind so abruptly. He looks at her before nodding to Hux.

"It won't happen again," Rey rushes to defend. Hux gives them a long look, and Rey feels as though he's looking right through her, then seems content enough to take it. He nods and Rey relaxes minimally.

"There is nothing between Captain Phasma and I. She cares for Millicent," he explains, "I rarely have time to be in my quarters and she'll drop by and feed the tabby for me. She had not done so while you were there simply because, well, you were _there_. Caring for her."

Oh.

 _Oh._

Of course. How could she be so _stupid_? She blushes hard and bites her cheek in an effort to make it go away.

"So you're…friends?" she asks, but Hux is starting to close off again and she lets the subject drop. The General's friendships are no concern of hers. Rey's glad for this new information, though, and likes Phasma the more for it. But then he gives her a tiny nod and the air in the room clears once more.

A small alarm goes off.

Time for lessons.

Kylo Ren takes that as his cue to excuse himself and return to his own training, while Rey and Hux set their trays aside for a crew member to remove, igniting their data pads at the same time. There is not a single mention of Phasma and the tabby again for the duration of their trip to Kuat.

* * *

The more time she spends trying to access the Force - even through her kriffing block - the more she manages to coax it out in battle, the stronger the bond grows. Kylo is now an unshakeable presence in her mind, not a hum but a solid form sitting in the back of her awareness the more she explores her power.

The rest of the trip goes on similarly to their first dinner together, except small changes start to take place. General Hux shows up to their training session one morning after having nothing else to do, silently leaning against the doorframe and watching as Rey and Kylo practice her combat forms before she's tired enough to attempt to meditate and levitate pebbles. Kylo refuses to let her get distracted with the new visitor by throwing her with the Force when her attention shifts. She falls with a painful grunt as Kylo extends his arm to help her rise. She takes it begrudgingly, lets him hoist her up like he would a feather. Lesson learned. She does not allow her concentration to waver the rest of the session. By the time Rey looks at the door, General Hux has quietly slipped away.

Kylo in turn starts regularly showing up to dinner time, all three of them eating quietly, sometimes answering her questions about Kuat and sometimes quizzing her along with Hux. Eventually he starts showing up for lessons as well, sitting quietly and observing while Hux puts her through the mental wringer.

In the time between that first embarrassing dinner and the third day afterwards, Hux has braved the entrance to the training room and comes inside, sitting himself gingerly on one of the benches and propping a data pad on his knee, no doubt working endlessly. His eyes lift every once in a while to a snarl from Rey or a grunt from Kylo as they trade blows during her combat forms practice. These visits become a daily routine.

Kylo's presence becomes as integral to her lessons as Hux's tutelage is. He refuses to help her via the bond under strict instructions from Hux, who despises anyone who cheats, and will sometimes even help with providing scenarios under which Rey has to think quickly on her feet should negotiations go wrong. It becomes a game she enjoys, testing the limits of both men and letting them test her as the days go on.

Sometime between day seven and day nine of their trip Rey finally manages to levitate her pebbles, and only through excruciating hardship, having to circumvent her block by having Kylo instigate her, but it's something. There's a celebration that night. It's a one sided celebration, with Rey drinking some wine that the General had managed to stock on board as a gift to the Kuati — they wouldn't miss a bottle, she tells him, and he rolls his eyes — and Rey's the only one drinking while the men watch her curiously, carrying on their own hushed conversations. She doesn't remember much of that night, but she doesn't mind, somehow ending up in her quarters safely and still clothed. She had celebrated like she'd seen people celebrate on Jakku and it felt kriffing good to achieve something for once in the training room. A few days after that she beats one of Kylo's scenarios, earning her a round of compliments from both men that she didn't really think they were ever capable of uttering. She preens.

"And if that doesn't work?" Hux asks, trying to get her back on task.

Rey shrugs. "Then we'll set them all on fire and hightail it out of there."

The answer is so unlike her that both men stare, then chuckle, and it feels so very good.

"Careful, girl," Kylo says with a smirk, "You're starting to sound like a dark sider."

Rey doesn't mind being called girl for once.

The morning after, during combat, Rey had finally won, though she'd cheated her way into that victory. Kylo Ren had come at her, all bulk and wide shoulders and strong arms to try and grab her by the waist to spin, except she'd learned how to snake her arm around his until she'd had the upper hand, turning herself as if to allow him to grab before hoisting him over her shoulder with momentum and sending him flying. He'd fallen on the matted floor with a loud grunt.

Then Rey's turning to a smirking Hux with arms fisted in front of her, doing a small sidestep back and forth as she throws out a challenge.

"Come on, General. I'm on a roll here. Come fight me!"

She's grinning like an idiot and Hux's smirk hasn't left his face, and she's on top of the world until Kylo knocks her knees from under her with his weapon and she's the one crumbling to the floor in a heap.

"Never turn your back on your enemy," Kylo growls. He hoists her up again and they continue, Hux returning to his work, though she notices from the corner of her eye that the little smile never leaves his face.

But even as the days go by Rey becomes more and more lethargic. She's been dreaming. She had never really remembered her dreams before. Daydreams, sure, but not dreams like these. They're nightmares. The crew is four days out from reaching their final location and Rey's starting to feel like a caged animal inside the ship. During waking hours she trains, exhausts her body, she learns, exhausts her mind, then dreams such horrible things that she's slowly starting to exhaust her soul. On the twelfth night, she wakes up with a jerk and a scream.

Sometimes in the dreams desert sand and sea water would mix into a slush, and she'd sink while a voice told her sadly that he couldn't help her. She'd suffocate in the darkness.

Other times there were the screams of a little boy. Rey looked and looked, but her eyes were cloaked in red and she couldn't even see her hands no matter how hard she tried to rub the red away. The screams would continue until she woke.

And yet other instances she was slipping inside a dark cavernous room with a creature she couldn't quite place, being told she wasn't good enough.

The men must have noticed; next thing she knows she's told she's being forced to take a day to relax and recuperate, no if or buts about it. Not that she'd ever fight it. She spends the morning sleeping and manages to make it out of her quarters by noon, according to the clock, though who knows what time it really is when she's been stuck in hyperspace for almost two weeks now.

She grabs something to eat under the stern gazes of Hux and Ren before slowly making her way back to her quarters and collapsing again. Thankfully this time, no dreams come.

* * *

Hux and Kylo are sitting in the common room staring at each other after Rey takes her leave, returning to her rooms. They'd both noticed how she'd been slipping the last few days and Hux's concern is mounting. She had repeatedly reassured them that she was not ill, but he's starting to believe otherwise.

"We will get her to a medical facility as soon as we land," Hux says.

Kylo shakes his head, making Hux frown.

"What?" he asks.

"She's not sleeping well," Kylo responds, his fingers toying with a small loose thread from his sleeve close to his thumb.

They had been quietly discussing the potential issues they could encounter with their new plan to allow Rey to leave when she had dragged herself through the doors, grabbed a small ration and eaten about a third of it before returning to her quarters. Hux narrows his eyes.

"She could still be ill," he states, not ready to drop this. The last thing he needed was for Rey to get sick.

"She's not, General," Kylo retorts again with something like irritation, "She can't sleep because she's having nightmares."

Hux narrows his eyes.

"How do you know that?" he asks.

Then Kylo's hesitating for a moment.

"Because they're mine… her nightmares. They're bleeding through the… Force bond… when both our guards are lowered. Now that she's stronger inside of my mind, her subconscious and mine start bleeding into each other. It's not like I can stop it, short of swearing off sleep permanently."

Hux thinks the man has actually considered that option by the set of his lips. He takes in the dark circles under Ren's eyes, the hollowness to his cheeks. The knight hadn't seen proper rest in a while. Hux guesses neither of them had, and now Rey was adding to that count. He words his next query carefully.

"Have you told her?"

Kylo's head shake is nearly imperceptible. He says nothing, but Hux gets a sense that he can't quite bring himself to.

"Will you go to her?" Kylo murmurs in a rush.

"What?" Hux stares at the man before him. He's rarely taken aback, but those words certainly do it.

"When she wakes… you know it was loud enough for us to hear it last night, since her room's in the middle. Will you go to her?"

Hux considers the words that must come next.

"Why would I do that, Ren? She's not my charge, after all."

Kylo stares blankly at him, unblinking, calling him out on that lie. Rey has been Hux's charge just as much as she's been Kylo's since day one, if not more so. She was _their_ responsibility. Their scavenger to protect. After those memories Kylo had shared of her total breakdown in the training room, something had passed between the two of them like a whisper on a soft breeze, unspoken but agreed to nonetheless. Hux knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Kylo himself would gladly go to her this very moment if she would accept him. He thinks back to the man setting her in Hux's bed what seems like eons ago, with something so very close to softness Hux had thought he had imagined it. He thinks back to the man setting her down once more in that tiny cramped space they called a room aboard this ship.

"She trusts you," Kylo says, words low, yet Hux's nostrils flare at this because it brings up a small amount of hope he'd been trying to stomp down on for a long while now.

"You might be exaggerating," he provides, trying to call the Knight back down to reality. Kylo shakes his head then pushes his index finger to his temple.

"I can read her just about as well as she reads me. She trusts you, even if she's not willing to admit it to herself."

They sit in silence for a moment longer before Kylo pushes himself off his seat and departs.

That night, when the screams float down the hall to Hux, he silently pads out of the room and follows them until he's standing at Rey's door. Ren is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

There's a knock on the door and Rey frowns. She looks at the clock, it reads two in the morning. Her eyes fly back to the door but she refuses to move until another knock comes.

"Rey?"

Her frown deepens. Slowly Rey lifts her blanket from where it's pooled on her lap as she had jolted awake, then steps out of the small bed and presses her hand to the access pad. The door hisses open softly and standing on the other side is the General. He looks so different she would nearly mistake him for someone else if not for the shock of red hair gracing his head, messy and falling over his ears, a few locks crossing his brow. There's a small shadow of an unshaved beard starting to show and he's wearing a quarter sleeve navy blue cotton shirt over black sweatpants. Rey's tired mind is surprised that the man has any color in his wardrobe. Or that he even dresses in anything other than a uniform kept sharp as a tack.

"General," she offers tiredly. "What can I do for you?"

He hesitates then, shifts his weight on bare feet once before leaning forward and speaking in a low voice.

"I heard you scream."

Rey resists the urge to bite her lip. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Hux shakes his head very lightly then looks over her shoulder into her small room before settling his eyes on her.

"Are you alright? Do you need company?"

"I—" she starts, then stops abruptly.

No, she should say.

No, she didn't need anything.

She didn't need anybody, much less someone like General Hux.

She had not needed anybody for fifteen years, left to her own devices inside the corpse of an AT-AT. She could handle a few nights in a room aboard a ship and some harmless dreams. Yet perhaps it is the fact that she _hasn't_ had anybody ask her if she's alright for fifteen years that makes Rey give him a long, considering glance. He's staring at her with a carefully crafted vacant look that betrays nothing, leaning back on his frame as if he's fully expecting her to turn him down.

Slowly, she steps aside to let him enter. Hux hesitates for a moment before walking in and turning to look at her. The room gives her very little space to move without bumping into him, so she stays where she is once the door shuts and locks them both in.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks once more.

Rey sighs, "I haven't been sleeping well."

"I could tell," he replies.

They stand there looking at each other without really looking at each other until the General breaks the quiet by slowly walking to her bed. Rey's alarms immediately start going off.

"What're you doing?" she demands.

He turns and arches an eyebrow at her but stays silent while he sits at the head of the bed, back to the wall and legs sticking out over the side, ankles crossed, then he pats the open space beside him. Rey frowns.

"Come now, Rey; I promise you, I'd never sink so low as to do anything you don't want from me."

Rey bites her lip and he folds his hands on his lap, looking at her expectantly.

And she's so tired.

She finally admits to herself how exhausted she is when she notices how Hux waits for her to jump in and make herself comfortable, and kriff if the idea of not sleeping alone doesn't seem so appealing in that moment, after years of nothing but sleeping alone.

She makes up her mind.

Slowly, hesitantly, she crawls up into the bed. Hux doesn't move, trailing her with his eyes. She sits next to him and they spend a few minutes in silence, looking at each other in the dim glow of the orange safety light set over the head of the bed. Rey looks at him and the General looks at her and the silence stretches comfortably as it always had between them. It is this that finally breaks her. Rey scoots down the mattress and gingerly lowers herself down until she's able to carefully rest her head on his thighs. Her eyes are wide open and she's barely breathing, gaze pinned on the wall, a part of her screaming for her to stop because what on earth is she doing, but her exhaustion wins and she lets her head rest fully in the warmth cradling her. Even more careful than her own movements are the General's. For a second Rey wonders if he'll stand up and leave, having decided this was a stupid idea, but then she feels his fingers slowly, tenderly carding through her hair, another hand falling on her shoulder, his thumb massaging careful, soft circles into her skin. Her eyes fall closed of their own volition.

She takes a heartbeat to cherish the feeling. In that moment her walls slowly collapse and she feels another awareness inside her mind. He's awake. He rarely seems to sleep. He's awake and he's paying attention, and she knows he's feeling a ghost of a touch in his hair the same way she sometimes feels a ghost of a touch in hers when he runs his fingers through his dark locks. In her half-awake mental state she sends the sensations to him through their bond and hopes that he'll accept them. He does, because next thing she knows she's hearing his voice in her mind, a soothing whisper of peace.

 _Sleep well, little scavenger._

Rey sighs as Hux coaxes her to relax into his touch and Kylo lulls her to dreamless sleep with peace and quiet.

For the first time in days, she rests.

Beautiful, quiet sleep.

It only lasts so long, though.

By the time she wakes up at her usual six in the morning the General has long left her bed. She rubs sleep from her eyes. It's the thirteenth day and a voice comes from the head speaker informing all passengers that they are six hours out from exiting hyperspace, Kuat their next destination.

She sits up with a jerk and stares at the speaker.

It was time.

She meets the General for a last debriefing and he makes no mention of the previous night so she doesn't either. Kylo Ren comes around soon after breakfast, and the next four and a half hours are spent planning, rehashing information, preparing their belongings to be loaded onto the small craft Rey and her companions would be flying into Kuat's atmosphere, and generally going over every last detail until they'd all repeated them ad nauseam. Rey looks around and feels a small amount of regret that they had arrived. The bubble they had formed while inside this ship in the middle of hyperspace, where they could not be reached, had pushed them to spend time together. It had even been an enjoyable experience for her, if rocky in places. Now the bubble was about to burst as she cloaked herself with the knowledge that once in Kuat, the men before her were still a General of the First Order and a Knight of Ren, and she a prisoner who is gambling for her freedom.

Rey sighs. She refused to feel regret.

She'd focus on the freedom instead. Her mind wanders to all the places she can think of, names of planets she'd learned but had never seen, and her thoughts flood with the faces of her friends. She'd see them again. Of that, she was certain.

* * *

The trip down to Kuat's surface goes in a blink. The comm link beeps to life, a voice demanding for all passengers to state their visit's purpose as well as recite back the code sequences to their visiting permits. Rey knew it had cost Hux a pretty penny to be able to land on the planet rather than do their dealings aboard the ship rings of Kuat Drive Yards surrounding the planet. The Kuati could refuse them entrance of course, Hux had explained during one of their lessons, but the First Order was one of the KDY's biggest clients. Rey remembers how his nose had pinched and he'd looked affronted at her question. _They would not_ dare _refuse us entrance_ , he'd stated, all haughty attitude and hard edges. Still, Rey holds her breath for a second longer than necessary until the comm link beeps back to life again and they're being granted permission to land.

Once they break atmosphere Rey's eyes rove over the fields of green and she sighs happily, eyes glued out the passenger window. She would have taken the copilot's seat except the look Hux and Kylo had given her brooked absolutely no nonsense; the looks they were giving her now, had she peeled her eyes off the scenery long enough to notice, were both curiously warm and sympathetic, so different from how they looked at anything else in their lives. Yet her mind was elsewhere and she never noticed, too busy taking in all the beautiful shades of green and blue from the trees and bodies of water. She didn't think she'd ever tire of those colors. If nothing else came from this adventure, at least she'd have one more memory of beauty to add to her meager collection.

Rey fidgets with the leather sleeves of her coat. Her usual comfortable outfit had been replaced by what Hux had deemed clothing appropriate for an ambassador of the Order, followed by a sarcastic murmur about how he would not be bringing the equivalent of a desert rat to negotiate in his stead. She'd glared at him for that, but he'd straight up ignored her. No, she would be dressed according to his specifications, no matter how much she'd complained.

The long coat is cinched at the waist, made of comfortably heavy, leather-rimmed black wool. It would keep her warm against the temperatures of the planet, which Hux noted were far, far cooler than the dessert heat she's used to. The shoulders and sleeves are a soft, shiny pliable leather that allows her limbs to move comfortably; a long golden zipper traveling from around her groin area all the way to the tall rounded neckline caressing her jawline, crossing two pockets similarly zippered that reminded her a little too much of Kylo's cross guard when his saber was ignited.

It's a beautiful thing, even if she knew nothing of fashion. It's also dark as night.

She'd hated it on sight. It feels too much like something a Knight of Ren would wear.

She must have projected that thought because suddenly Kylo is turning his head slightly to the side to catch sight of her and she in turn catches a flash of desire on his features, but it's gone quickly when he reminds her in a low voice to don her leather gloves. They would be entering port shortly.

Once the ship is propelled forward into its landing pad via a gravitational pull that allows for a perfect landing - something Rey is seriously impressed about - the two men are standing up and double checking that all of their own clothing items are resting where they should be. Kylo runs his fingers through his hair a few times to shove all the loose locks back from his face before donning his helmet, catching Rey's eye and making her think that must be the secret to his perfect hairdo every time he removes the thing. Then he's pulling his cowl over it, the perfect image of terrifying darkness. She can't help herself. Her breath hitches and her pulse quickens in a very, very uncomfortable manner as her mind travels to that fateful interrogation room so long ago.

"Rey," comes the modulated voice, but it's soft, "It's me in here. It's alright," he reminds her.

It wasn't alright, not really, but the words bring her heart from where it had jumped to her throat back to where it should be in her chest and Rey takes in a deep breath.

Hux is watching them curiously, adjusting his own gloves, his usually perfectly pressed uniform even more pristine if that could even be possible, his great cloak perched on his shoulders as usual. The ramp lowers and her soft leather boots land on the hangar of Kuat. Rey catches a glimpse of herself and the two men flanking her on the reflective sideboard of a ship parked nearby. Hux was right, she very much looks like she belongs between them.

Three tall women await twenty feet away, straight backed and standing close together as they stare directly at them with blank expressions. A welcoming committee, then.

Rey steps forward as she had been instructed to during her lessons, the two men falling behind in tandem. They would show deference to her in all public exchanges from now on, standing behind her like an honor guard.

Rey takes a deep breath.

 _Time to face the music._

* * *

 **What did you think? Please** reviewwww **!**

 **author's notes:** AAAAHHHHH back to updating! Kylo Ren is a little shit xD Thank you guys so, so much for the comments the last chapter. I really, really hope you enjoyed this one!

Yoon: T-T YES. It's so sad. poor kid. bless her. but at least she's got two hunks protecting her for now ;) I'm so glad you enjoyed it though.  
AbohorrentPandemonium & everlastingtrueromance: THANK YOU! I'm so glad you're still reading and you enjoyed last chapter!


	15. Mutual Interests

Rey watches the women huddled together and they in turn watch her approach. There is nothing friendly about the way they stare, despite holding themselves to what Rey could only assume is their utmost professionalism. These are women who are used to power and holding it over others, and the air with which they hold themselves straight immediately belies their sense of superiority. They were all part of the noble houses that governed the planet and held themselves as such, faces blank and impassive, hands held in front of their beautiful gowns in a shocking array of vibrant colors and soft looking fabrics. She immediately dislikes them.

Rey takes a few more steps before standing straight in front of them and bowing slightly at the waist as she'd been taught, practicing the move over and over until Hux had deemed it low enough to be respectful yet not so low that she'd pass off as a groveler. She takes the moment while her body is downcast and her face is obscured to pinch her nose. This would not be pleasant whatsoever. The men behind her mimic the motion, though she can tell through the bond that Kylo does not appreciate bowing to absolutely anyone. She doubts Hux is any more pleased by it.

"My Ladies," Rey greets once she's straightened.

The women before her incline their own greeting, far shallower than Rey's had been. They are, after all, the residents here and she and her companions the visitors. All three are all taller than she is, forcing her to look up slightly at them, glossy hair braided back from beautiful faces. Rey wonders in passing if every person would be as lovely. Yet the set of their faces is anything but open or welcoming. A shorter woman, just an inch or so taller than Rey, with jet black hair and high cheekbones steps forward. She seems to be the youngest, dressed in emerald green and soft shades of blue. She shoots the men behind her a glance before looking Rey square in the eye.

"Welcome to Kuat," she says, offering Rey no formal title, "My apologies, I do not know your name. I must say we are surprised. We did not expect a woman to arrive with the First Order envoys."

Rey allows herself to give a pleasant smile, though her mind focuses on this small admission.

So Hux had not informed them of her coming with. Smart man. He'd caught them by surprise. That gives Rey an edge, and she immediately starts finding a way to turn this kernel of information to her advantage.

"Rey Ren, My lady," she replies with a much smaller incline of her head this time, rolling out the last name and tasting it on her mouth. It slips out like silk, only a letter off from her regular name.

She'd been given the Knight of Ren's title in lieu of a last name since she had none, and they would not disclose that she was from Jakku. The name sounded odd on her tongue, but she must have sounded it off with enough familiarity as she notes all three women incline their heads once more in acknowledgement.

"I am known as Temir of House Depon," the young woman says before turning to acknowledge the others behind her, "And my companions here are Lady Leras of House Andrim, and Lady Tiagha of House Purkis. It is our pleasure to welcome you to our home."

Lady Leras is the tall, slender one to Temir's right with long almond green eyes and a perpetual pout framed by a shoulder-length bob of brown curls. Lady Tiagha is stockier, face round and beautiful with a soft glow to her cheeks. Rey wonders if this woman has ever seen a hard day's worth of work in her life, yet, despite Tiagha's charming smile, her eyes are sharp and bright. A dangerous combination, charm and wit. Rey immediately knows who is really leading this welcoming committee.

Interesting, that. Hux had spent the better part of four days drilling her with the names of each house pertaining to The Ten, the original houses that had colonized and terraformed Kuat, and who now governed over billions of citizens. Rey zeroes in on their house names. House Andrim has long been a rival house to both Depon and Purkis. She could use this to her advantage later.

"The pleasure is all ours, I assure you, Lady Temir."

Temir seems pleased by the fact that she alone has been addressed by a formal title and name. It would mean that she alone would take the lead in their negotiations, leaving the other women bound to silence, and Rey intentionally singles her out. She's young and perhaps easier to deal with than the stern faced Leras and the rather cunning Tiagha. It is a very old, very obscure custom of the Kuati, and Rey feels three instantaneous flashes of surprise emanating from their life signatures, but she has to hand it to them; if they are offended by any of it, their faces betray absolutely nothing.

The other two women would agree on absolutely nothing, being from opposing houses, and that is also something Rey could exploit. If they agreed on nothing and would not speak during negotiations unless prompted, then Temir would be Rey's only true target.

Then they're all being led away from the hangars and towards a large building that glows in the morning light. Kylo and Hux keep a respectful distance of about five feet behind her at all times, leaving Rey feeling rather alone in the middle as the women lead the way and the men bring up the rear. She takes the moment of solitude to let her eyes wander, careful not to gawk lest Hux would have her head. The sprawling well manicured fields speak of an abundance that Rey could have never pictured from the information she'd been given to prepare for her lessons. The cobblestone path is strange to Rey, who's been used to the sands of Jakku, the cement platforms of the Resistance, the steel floors of the First Order's ships. She looks at the path for a moment and wonders how long it must have taken to be constructed, each stone placed down individually and secured to its surroundings, simple in its parts but so intricate in its entirety. Rey thinks the whole thing rather beautiful.

The building itself could have been easily called a palace, not that Rey has a lot of experience in such things, but it is so large she can only imagine that hundreds of people could stand under the impossibly high domed ceilings and not feel the need to jostle for space. Large white columns disappear into the distance and the marble floors under her feet are shined to a mirror-like polish. She matches her steps to that of the women before her, Kylo and Hux seemingly keeping their own little beat, and the soft clicks of their heels carries them down a side hall for minutes until they pass a large set of glistening doors and into a meeting room.

A gargantuan mahogany table sits in the middle of the room overlooking wide glass windows that gives a perfect view of a mountainous range, impossibly high and impossibly beautiful. Rey has never seen mountains; they'd been positioned facing the view for the sake of first impressions. Regardless, she stashes the image of mountains away before turning to the Kuati women. Temir's the first to sit, positioning herself in the seat centered in the middle along one end, with Leras and Tiagha flanking her on either side. Rey does the same on the opposite side, with Hux to her right and Kylo to her left, and holds her silence. It would always be customary of the Kuati for their own emissaries to speak first.

"What brings you to our planet, Lady Ren? You must have come a long way for your trip to have lasted so long," Temir offers, setting her hands lightly on the table and lacing her fingers together in question.

Rey rests hers on her thighs, offering Temir a radiant smile.

"Two weeks, to be precise, though it is a short distance to travel in exchange for your fine goods, Lady Temir."

Well, Rey muses, flattery never hurt anybody.

She herself had seen its benefits when bargaining for food or parts on Jakku. She couldn't deny that buttering up somebody who held the upper hand when bargaining always made it _just_ that much easier to sweeten the deal. And it works, as Rey hoped it would, because Temir's lips twitch ever so slightly in a smile before the woman schools her expression again. Rey takes a small breath and continues.

"We do not wish to intrude upon your hospitality for longer than necessary, so I'll try to be as concise as possible. We would like to place an order. A rather large one."

And what a large order it is. Rey had never even _seen_ numbers like the ones Hux had mentioned to her. Her life had been exchanging labor for food, and when she had managed to get her hands on credits, they were only always a couple here and there; enough to help her get parts to maintain upkeep of her AT-AT's weatherproofing or buy herself a small ion cooker for her meals. _Never_ these amounts. She couldn't quite imagine that much currency. The women in front of her obviously could, though.

They all lean forward, obviously interested. Orders are the currency of Kuat, much more so than credits themselves, though a large influx of them certainly didn't hurt. Orders meant clients. _Large_ orders meant that whatever house brought them in got bragging rights over the other houses for a small amount of time, giving them preference in making decisions in how the new funds aided the Kuat government's goals until the next big order came, because ultimately, Kuat Yard Drives and the Kuati Government were really one and the same. Rey knows that with her choice to address Temir, she had given House of Depon the advantage.

She itches to look at Hux again, _really_ look at him, and check to make sure that she's doing alright. She doesn't. In the eyes of these women, her reliance on Hux would be below her and she would lose her ground quickly if she was seen deferring to the men, so she trains her eyes on Temir's instead.

"We recently lost a depot between systems that has set us back significantly in time and resources, and since you have always provided such fantastic service along with excellent ships and weapons, we made haste for Kuat as soon as possible. Here's a list of all the things we're hoping to procure from you."

Rey pauses just long enough to dig a small data pad from one of the deep side pockets of her coat and hands it to Temir, who reaches out for it then glances at the list. The other two women lean in discreetly to also take a look, leaving her to watch their expressions as three meticulously groomed pairs of eyebrows rise by degrees the longer Temir scrolls down the list.

Temir looks up at Rey and blinks, then gives her a hesitant, rather closed smile.

"Well, you certainly said a _large_ order, Lady Ren," the slender woman offers, "Perhaps you would like to begin by discussing specifics?"

And so they spend the next three hours discussing _specifics_ to be sure: specific weapons, specific ranges those weapons should reach, specific amounts of said weapons. This part goes on for quite a while but there are no disagreements. By the end of it, they've discussed the specifics _for_ the specifics, and Rey's eyes itch. Hand-weapons and even small artillery are things that the Kuati can create with their eyes closed in no time flat. Temir nods in assent as Rey reminds them that all weapons must carry the First Order's insignia and be easily scanned or dismantled for inspection. The reminder makes her think of Finn. Rey shoves that aside. Now is not the time to be thinking about her ex-stormtrooper friend. She needs to keep her wits about her.

Still, everything up until this point has gone so well Rey's starting to wonder when things will go downhill. It doesn't take long. They move onto the specifics of the Star Destroyer ships, and negotiations take a turn towards… _complicated_.

Rey states her desire to have Star Destroyers and TIE fighters built, though she fails to mention the number the First Order needs just yet as she gauges the interest of the women before her. Temir simply gives her a perfunctory nod before she sets the data pad down.

"We can certainly build your ships, Lady Ren. We have had the First Order's specifications on file for a long time now, and you have always been a very important client to us. Would they be the same or are there new modifications you're looking to implement?"

Rey shakes her head.

"The vessel plans are to remain the same, Lady Temir," Rey begins, "Our only request would be timely delivery, as we're unfortunately under-supplied at the moment."

The women look at each other. The KDY is a rather stickler organization when it comes to delivery times and would demand their time tables be adhered to. This Rey knows from her notes, and she guessed it was common knowledge. A TIE fighter would take them six months to complete. A Star Destroyer would take them a year. Rey needs three thousand TIE fighters in four months and two Star Destroyers in no more than eight. _To make up for the loss of Starkiller base,_ Hux had explained, his eyes hard on Rey, _We'll need to strengthen our fleets, otherwise we lose all tactical advantage._

She had bristled at that the rest of the night, but Rey was not one to turn down a challenge. She'd get him his blasted ships. She'd get him his ships on time and, if she was lucky, she'd bargain for more than what he wanted.

Temir is looking at her a second longer than appropriate, face guarded as she asks in a light tone.

"What's your approximation for requested delivery, My Lady?" she asks.

Rey mentally takes a deep breath, finally getting to the part they had prepared for, then states their requirements as Hux had given them to her. Four and eight months, respectively.

The room falls silent. If Rey strains her ears she's sure she could pick up on everybody's breathing. Taigha's eyes are drilling into Rey's temple and Leras is allowing an unbidden look of shock to cross her face. It only lasts a second, but that's long enough for Rey to catch it and store it away. Temir, despite her youth, is the only one with a stony look, as if unsurprised. Or perhaps determined. Silence stretches on for an uncomfortably long moment.

Then the young woman laughs, her jet black hair whipping around as she shakes her head.

"Surely you must be joking, my Lady. Those times are entirely too short for the sort of work you're requesting, and we don't even know how many you need. Perhaps we can discuss this further?"

Rey had been expecting this, she leans back into her chair and imitates Hux's mannerisms, the way he can make himself look larger than the room simply by sitting at his leisure. She wraps herself in Kylo's calm, commanding and demanding of silence all at the same time. Out of the corners of her eyes she catches the men giving her appreciative looks, and she wishes she could turn her head and grin smugly at them. Then she's receiving a mental image of Hux's appreciative glance as well as the Knight's own impressed interest through the bond, and in that moment she doesn't have to fake the self-assured smile she directs towards the three ladies in front of her.

She'd nearly forgotten about the bond in her haste to get this right. Immediately, she mentally sends her thanks to Kylo and he falls into mediating between what he can see and what she cannot throughout the rest of the meeting. Having a second pair of eyes is immensely useful. He can see what she cannot as she kept her attention on Lady Temir.

When Rey finally speaks again, it's with all the gravitas of the General and all the confidence of the First Knight of Ren.

She remembers all the information Hux had drilled into her brain, as well as the specific numbers she's to request, but Rey is riding a small high, and this time, she'd show them how a scavenger _bargained_ for things.

"I need six thousand TIE fighters and ten Resurgent-Class Destroyers, Lady Temir, and I need them as soon as humanly possible."

There's a soft choked sound coming from Leras, which she quickly disguises as a clearing of her throat, and all of Tiagha's good humor has slipped away in the blink of an eye, leaving the woman to look like Rey had dropped a hammer on her. Perhaps she had.

This wasn't a large order, this was a _colossal_ one. Rey reaches out to Hux's mind and surprisingly he leaves it wide open once he feels her presence. She sends an image into his mind — Would they be able to afford this? — regretting that she cannot speak words with him the way she does with Kylo, but it must have come across well enough because he projects a reluctant agreement through to her. She gets another image from Kylo, who blessedly is wearing a helmet so no one can tell what he truly thinks except for Rey. Hux's surprise is clearly painted for her to see even if she knows nobody but her or Kylo would be able to tell, the man wore impassivity like an iron mask.

While the women all lean into each other to whisper so Temir can confer with her companions — something she _must_ do at this point given Rey's numbers — Hux, Kylo and Rey pass images back and forth and hold a conversation of their own, though outwardly they have not twitched a muscle.

They'd be able to afford it, but Hux immediately projects his displeasure at her. It would be a tight budget. A very, very tight budget. He formulates a number and shoves it at Rey, a cap to what she can place on the table. He's still a little flummoxed at Rey's ballsy move, but has no choice but to play along now. He is just as unable to voice his opinion as Leras and Tiagha are.

When the whispers stretch on Rey clears her throat, forcing the other women to look up at her. It's probably a rude thing to do, but she'd gained the upper hand through surprise and Rey is hell bent on keeping it.

"Forgive me, my Ladies," she says without any remorse, "but have you perhaps arrived at some sort of agreement? Or am I to assume that our order cannot be fulfilled? If so, we'll go take our business elsewhere. That would be lamentable, however, since your people are so skilled at what they do."

Hux had not prepared this for her either and he starts shoving his alarm towards hers. He does not want to go elsewhere.

She blocks him out for once.

Rey knows that the women would not let this slip from their fingers. She knows something of greed. She'd known greed as she'd scavenged earlier than most and later than most, moving into ships too dangerous or too small for anyone to fit themselves through, dangling thousands of feet in the air by a thin rope, risking wounds and cuts for the promise of a bigger meal at the end of the day dangled in front of her like a carrot. No, the women would not let them walk away. If they took the order they'd be infused with enough funds to run the whole of Kuat for the next two years without need to take on another single client. That sort of infusion of credits would be hard to refuse. Not to mention what it would do for their family names.

Temir clears her throat before speaking. Cutting her off from her companions means that she must make her decision now and make it alone, or risk losing them, though for a moment Rey fears that the woman would call her bluff.

She doesn't.

"I must admit, Lady Ren, your numbers are rather…. exorbitant. I cannot promise that we would have the manpower necessary for this short of emptying our yards to relocate resources." She extends her hands palm up, as if in explanation, "That would be inconceivable of us. We do have other clients we must serve in a timely manner as well. We could attempt to build all of this, but we'd need double - no, triple the allotted time. "

"No time changes, my Lady; we must have these ships by the time we currently request. It's not an option for us. Are you telling me that, in a world where the very vast majority of your population is born to build ships, that you would be currently understaffed due to our request?"

There's a small twitch in Temir's temple that Rey doesn't miss. Instinctively, she reaches out with the Force to read her; it came so easily now after trying to pound at Kylo's walls in training the last two weeks. She nearly sighs with relief when she notes Temir has absolutely zero mental barriers. Temir looks worried that Rey knows that she's hiding something, and Rey's curiosity sparks. She wades around until a small thought floats to the woman's surface and she snatches it.

She could use this. Rey purposely takes the time contemplating her response to Temir's demand for time, as if she could yet be swayed, making a show of it while the kuati women wait expectantly for her to speak.

Rey changes tactics.

"Tell me, Lady Temir, have our troops orbiting your system caused you any trouble lately?"

All three pale at the same time. She'd find it comical if not for the situation. Rey pounces and snatches all their thoughts, looking for anything that could aid her in this, frantically hoping she's not making the biggest mistake of her life and tossing away her only bargaining chip.

The First Order keeps ships orbiting Kuat. It was an open secret that the arrangement had been made of mutual benefit: The First Order's troops would keep prying eyes away from First Order ships being built, denying neutral or rebel forces alike from seeing or attempting to steal any of the technological advances that Hux had spent so much time developing along with the KDY. Kuat in turn benefitted as a neutral entity and their own competitors were kept at bay.

Kylo turns his visor towards her. _What are you playing at, Rey?_

Kylo and the women would get their answer soon enough.

"I hear close patrols can sometimes be... _bothersome_... to shipyards like your own. Perhaps it would be wise for the First Order to remove our troops from your airspace. I am sure this would allow you to empty your ship yards faster, not to mention inspectors of the Galactic Shipbuilding Guild would delight in checking with you about your newest technological advancements."

There. She'd placed her chip on the table.

Hux is pushing his confusion into her brain, battering at her mental block on him.

She reaches out to Ren through the bond instead, wishing she could do the same with the General, to reassure him she had a plan.

 _The Kuati are dealing under the table. That is why they claim to be understaffed._

People on rosters that were meant to be aboard a specific ship during legit order fulfillment were being moved quietly to work on other things. Dangerous things.

Weapons were being dealt to the black market at exorbitant prices, more dangerous artillery - the kind not sanctioned by the Guild - was being developed under wraps. They might be fair to their people, but they were corrupt to the core when it came to how they sourced their funds. Should the Guild get a whiff of this, they'd be immediately removed and barred from further ship-making - another small tidbit she'd learned in an obscure note from her studies - and without First Order fleets to shield them and protect them, they'd leave themselves open to potential war from slighted customers and competitors alike.

In her haste to impress by pushing to gain for more time, Temir had slipped. The worry about the missing body count from rosters had flashed over Temir's mind and Rey had glimpsed that this was only one of a few negotiations the young woman had carried out.

When she'd conferred with the other women, they had not been able to agree on a single thing, as Rey had guessed would happen. _She'd counted on it._

This was Temir's test. She would be failing it spectacularly. Rey doesn't wait for Temir's answer.

"I believe you have the manpower."

Silence. The heartbeat between the sound of a clock ticking one second and the next. And the next. It stretches on for what feels like eternity.

Temir's nostrils flare and she gives a curt nod. The women beside her are obviously displeased, but nod sharply as well, unable to do anything further. They've been forced to keep their silence, after all.

Hux was a smart man. She'd have to thank him later for carefully slipping that old custom into her notes for lessons.

All traces of friendliness have left Lady Temir when opens her mouth to speak again, though she's still wearing professionalism like armor. Rey has to give her that much, at least.

"If we are to agree to this time frame, then we must speak about payment terms and upfront deposits, My Lady. I know how uncomfortable it is to speak about credits…"

Rey cuts her off. It's awfully rude of her, but she's gained the upper hand. She's not about to let it slip past her so easily. She does allow herself a small glance at Hux, who's face is a perfect mask of impassivity, before she proceeds.

"Surely with an order as massive as this one you'd be receiving enough compensation at our standard prices, Lady Temir? I have studied the prices we've paid in the past. Thoroughly. They all far surpass any prices you've given to other clients for similar work, despite their commissioned numbers being much lower than ours. I'd say you've already been profiting from us rather well."

Everyone stiffens. Rey sighs for effect.

"I would hate to have to decline this far in our talks, but perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement?" Rey knows that the emphasis brings their minds to the black market dealing and First Order shielding, rather than to the talk of credits, and Rey smiles gently at them when they basically project the exact same thing into her mind. How could people who basically talked high stakes day in and day out not know how to shield?

 _It's because they assume I'm not Force sensitive._

She's proved right when she pushes her awareness out towards the women. Taigha is assuming at that very moment that the First Order has spied this information somehow. That suits Rey just fine. The longer they can keep believing she's not tapping into their minds, the longer Rey has to take whatever information they project and use it against them.

"If we're not able to agree, I am afraid we'll have to take our offer and go elsewhere. That said, if our business is to conclude, we'll also be pulling out our patrols. There's no reason to guard something that no longer keeps our secrets."

 _There._

She's got them. Within a heartbeat, Temir's cheeks are taking on a rather pink tinge of color, Leras' eyes widen infinitesimally as she holds her breath, and Tiagha resembles a thunderhead, all clenched jaw muscles and fiery gaze.

It's no longer about a large order and governing families having an edge over one another. It's about Kuat's foundation as an independent entity. If they lose their shipyards, they lose everything. They might be opposing houses, but they are intertwined families after all. They'll look after their own.

"Allow us a moment, Lady Ren," Temir clips.

Rey nods and extends her hand as if permitting them to take their leave in their own home. Tiagha looks ready to strike her where she sits. Rey smiles in return, just because she can. All three women stride out of the room at an angry clip, the large doors slamming behind them.

Hux swivels to face her so fast her neck hurts just from watching him do it.

"Are you out of your kriffing _mind,_ Rey? What are you _doing_?"

His voice is sharp enough to cut, icy eyes hard and squinting at her as he hisses the last word, a drop of spittle landing on the table. This was not what he had come to achieve and his control had quickly slipped out from his perfectly gloved fingers the second he'd handed her the reins. Rey shrugs.

"You said you wanted ships. I'm getting you ships, General," she retorts with a tone of voice that would make even Kylo proud. The Knight is carefully minding his own business, though, pointedly avoiding drawing Hux's ire to himself.

"I swear, Rey, if they turn us out under guard and you make an enemy of the KDY for me I will—"

He's cut off when the doors open again and the women are walking back to their seats, looking far more composed than when they left, if no happier than before. Temir has a smile plastered on that does not quite reach her eyes. They all bow to her then, a hair deeper than before. Rey stands up, mimicked by the men at either side.

"We are honored that you have chosen to bestow such a large order on us, Lady Ren. Your patronage will surely help us maintain Kuat's flourishing nation for a while to come yet, and for that we have to be thankful — even with the… _limitations_ — and in the light of the immensity of your request we have decided to offer you in good faith a small discount of ten percent to help alleviate the burden on you. You've always been faithful customers of ours, after all."

This is all business speak. Rey's not familiar with any of it but she can read between the lines well enough: We keep you happy and you stay out of our hair.

Rey nods then and when she allows herself a bright smile she feels a little too much like Hux, playing mind games and twisting words.

"I am immensely grateful to you Lady Temir, Lady Leras, Lady Tiagha," she replies, relieving the women from the ridiculous custom that had chained them to silence. She stretches out her hand to Temir then. "Our patrols will remain for as long as we are able to keep them there, of course." _With the condition that you keep your word,_ Rey leaves the words unsaid.

Temir stares at her hand as though it's a live snake but she takes it gingerly and they shake, then Rey's hand is being dropped like a hot poker.

Taigha, finally free to speak, gives Rey a tight lipped smile bordering on a sneer.

"One last thing, Lady Ren," she says, hands folded neatly in front of her, "Your timing is perfect, We of Kuat are celebrating another millennial milestone of our settlement upon the planet, and the creation of our royal seat. Considering you have just aided us in helping to maintain that rule, we would be remiss not to invite you."

The _invitation_ was more like an order. Rey refuses to look at Hux even though she wants nothing more than to turn her head right that moment in his direction.

Instead she bows, another formal acquiesce, and smiles as she straightens.

"It would be our honor."

Temir speaks for the first time in long minutes. "Your weapons requirements and master list has been passed on to procurement to begin gathering materials. They will be delivered with your first batch of Tie Fighters."

Rey grins, relieved to hear that, and then the women are moving away, gesturing for them to follow. Taigha lingers behind and approaches Hux. She has just enough time to hear the next tightly clipped words before the scrape of a giant door muffles all other sounds.

"Pray tell, wherever did you _find her,_ General?"

* * *

Rey finds the nearest bed once they enter the large three bedroom suite and collapses on it, neither caring if it's meant for her nor bothering to look around at the amazing accommodations. Of course, Hux and Kylo Ren would not let her out of their sight now that they were on land and had _so many ships_ around for her to steal and make herself scarce. Any other time she would have ogled at the rooms, at the beautiful decorations and the neatly trimmed plants, the comfortable lighting and the ginormous refresher. Right in that moment she's so tired all she wants to do is fuse with the bed and never wake up again.

The men follow lazily behind and soon enough they're standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her in silence.

Rey says nothing, hoping they'll get the hint and leave.

"Rey," Hux calls out to her.

Rey grumbles something and flails her arm. It's meant to be ' _go away, I did what you wanted me to_ ' but only comes out as a muffled grunt.

She doesn't care that this is not how she should act. She doesn't care if she sounds even remotely whiny.

Her brain has been put through the wringer in that negotiation room and she's feeling a little filthy at having manipulated others for her purposes, used the force to fish out information to benefit her; if it meant she'd earn her freedom, though, she'd do it all over again, gladly. But that was all done and over with and now she just wants to forget about it.

"Rey," Hux repeats, a bit more gently this time.

She grunts and sits up, giving them both a tired glare. Kylo's removed his helmet and is currently holding it under his arm, looking entirely like he doesn't want to be in the room at the moment.

"Unless you're here to give me the access key to a nearby ship so I can leave now, please just go away."

Anger flashes through Kylo's face. Hux's is stony. Rey ignores both of them.

"I'm afraid we can't do that."

 _Of course not._

Rage starts boiling in the pit of her stomach and she's about to unleash it on them when the General holds up a hand.

"At least not for until after tomorrow…we'll be here for the duration of the festivities, I'm afraid. The Kuati delegation has made it painfully clear that they would _appreciate_ our attendance."

"Can't you go without me? I already did what you wanted me to."

General Hux stares at her blankly.

Of course not.

" _Okay_. Fine. But then I'm free…?"

She holds in her breath because this is it. This is what all of her hard work has been hinging on. For her to be able to finally leave the last almost two months of her life behind and return to her friends, or start over. She wants that choice. She craves it.

Hux turns to look at Kylo, and Rey frowns. That's right, Hux had only promised to begin negotiations… her true captor was the man cloaked in all black. Her eyes travel to his face and trains on his, though they seem to be looking at everything but her. There's a long moment in which his eyes flicker back and forth, lost, sad eyes… then a dark cloud settles over his gaze, all hint of life slipping out. She tries to reach him through the bond but meets nothing but a deadened wall.

Kylo Ren nods.

"Then you're free."

* * *

 **What do you think? please review!**

 **Author's note:** We're back! sorry for the delay. I'd been dealing with some health issues and wasn't able to keep up my pace, but we have returned, and thanks to all those who left me such lovely messages while I was away!


	16. Chandeliers

We're back! thank you so much, guys T-T I loved your messages!

 **Capri** \- IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK! I'm so glad you liked it.

 **Guest -** Heh, I can understand what you mean that there's never enough rey/hux stories, but unfortunately this story does feature kylo heavily. He's part of this relationship, and this fic is marked hux/rey/kylo, so unfortunately "the less kylo, the better" will not apply here. sorry!

 **Yoon-** I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT. I loved your comment about the slow pacing, because, man... it's certainly paced slow lol I love my slow burns on Austenian levels. as for whether Rey goes or not, we shall see!

Enjoy!

* * *

He orders a whole new wardrobe for her.

His boots click on the marble floor as he paces long strides up and down the space, glancing at the door sitting ajar every once in a while as his ears train in on the conversations in the next room over. Hux's been waiting for the tailors to stop working on Rey so he can finally address her without an audience, and it's taking _far_ longer than necessary. He's had half a mind to walk in there and demand the tailors leave, but she needed proper clothes for the celebrations and he'd be doing neither one of them any favors by interrupting. He listens to her breathy swearing every time a pin pinches somewhere as the tailors profusely apologize. He shakes his head, then resumes his pacing.

The girl was full of surprises. He'd watched with immense mounting horror as Rey had taken his directive and spun it on its head; so quickly it had caused whiplash. He'd been nearly sure they would be shoved out and placed under tight security before being basically booted out of orbit when she's doubled the amount of TIE fighters he'd requested, and had almost swallowed his tongue when she'd upped the amount of star destroyers from two to ten. He'd been getting ready to add the Kuat government to his lengthening list of enemies when she'd refused to budge on the price or the time frame and very ingeniously threatened them, immediately formulating ten different plans for how to keep from basically starting another side war.

The minutes stretch on and he's of half a mind to _actually_ walk in there and demand that the gaggle of tailors leave when he hears the door opening. As if on cue, a small army of men and women jostling fabrics and measurement instruments walk out, all bowing at Hux. He watches them go for a short second before striding purposefully into Rey's room. He'd waited far too long. Rey turns around still in her small clothes, shoulders tense, and he has to force himself to look at her eyes rather than focus on the way her waist curved in the filtering afternoon light, the tiny silvery scars from a hard life. She stands as tall and proud as ever, bringing his mind for a moment to their shower episode nearly two months ago. Had it truly been that long? She brings his attention back to her with a soft clear of her throat.

"I believe I had made myself clear, General. I would like to be left alone. You barging in on me is decidedly _not_ leaving me alone."

Hux squares his jaw, his fingers twitching towards fists in frustration before he forces himself to splay them and relax. Yes, she'd made it perfectly clear. Rey had basically shoved him out of her room once Ren had taken his leave, muttering words about having fulfilled her end of the deal and wanting her space.

"Stop being a child," he berates, walking forward and handing her one of the white robes that had been left behind by the staff, bringing it up towards her in offering. She glares at him but snatches it out of his fingers, shrugging it on with jerky motions. This whole thing feels as though they had somehow regressed from what little progress they had made over the last few weeks aboard the ship. He pursed his lips tightly.

Part of him hates it. No, _all_ of him hates it, he's willing to admit, if only to himself. Sure, they had never quite been cozy with each other and their...alliance during this trip - this whole thing since she'd been dropped off aboard his flagship, really - had been tenuous at best. Yet he'd enjoyed it. He'd found himself enjoying her company, her witty remarks, her dazzling smile as it graced her face, the way she'd pinch her nose and her freckles would disappear-

He mentally shakes his head. Enough of that. There were important things to talk about.

"How did you do it?" He asks, finally, because this is really what he'd wanted to know.

They'd been swept away from the negotiation hall, the last words he had heard being Lady Tiagha's barb about finding Rey somewhere, the implication in her voice clear. The woman thought he had a gem in his fingers. Hux is not inclined to disagree. And yet, here he is about to set her loose and pray to the Maker she comes back. So he sighs, partly because there is little he can do about it, and partly because now comes the time to stop playing mind games. Doing both things are equally hard for him.

"How did you convince them to give us…what? Six thousand TIE fighters? _Ten_ Star Destroyers? Were you out of your mind?" He asks, dropping into the seat from which he had lifted the white robe gracing her curves, leaning his elbows on his knees. He hadn't consciously made the decision to drop lower than her line of vision, but from where she stood on a small little platform the tailors had left behind, he looked much like a man praying at her heels.

She tilts her head to the side and Hux takes a moment to delight in the way the light turns her hair coppery, the gentle slope of her jaw. She had far exceeded anything he'd asked of her. He had found a diamond and he was about to toss it back into the ocean that was the galaxy. Stupid, _stupid_ man.

Rey brings him back out of his train of thought when she speaks rather tersely in his direction, though the small, mischievous smile that lifts up her face belies her tone. She's proud of this, if only a little.

"They're dealing in the black market, using our — _your_ … orbiting fleets as a shield from prying eyes."

His heart beats a little faster when she says ' _our_ ' as though he had been handed a precious little gift with those three little letters. Like a promise left unsaid, still lingering in the golden air of the Kuati afternoon. She corrects herself immediately, of course, but for a millisecond he allows himself the hope.

Then he's grinning at her for entirely different reasons.

"Is that so? You're a cunning little thing," he muses, bringing himself back to the negotiations.

She grins then, elated to receive as close to a compliment as he's ever _really_ given her on his own. The last time he'd been surprised by her aboard their ship, he'd been able to hide behind Kylo's own impressed administrations. Here it was just him and her and about five feet of space, and he wasn't playing games. Not now. Not with her.

"How did you find out?"

"The Force is a wonderful thing, General," she says haughtily and he laughs.

 _That's_ how she'd managed to come by the information.

Cunning little thing indeed. _His_ cunning little thing. For now.

"You're sounding an awful lot like your Master."

Wrong words.

Her smile falters, all humor dissipating like smoke from the end of a spent cigarette. He nearly bites his tongue trying to utter an apology fast enough, a concept entirely foreign to him until this moment. The words had slipped so _easily_.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" He tries, knowing she won't accept it.

"No," she shakes her head, "No, it's alright. He has been a Master to me these last two weeks… of sorts, at least."

She mumbles that last bit, and Hux watches her. Rey looks out the window, and maybe it's just the light playing tricks on his mind, but her eyes shine golden and green, and he immediately starts making a mental list of things that shine as beautifully, yet his list comes up horribly short.

Kuat's starting to get to him. A thumb comes up and rubs at his lower lip for a second before he forces his eyes off the girl in front of him and down, towards his hands, centering himself. She's his prisoner, and she would remain his prisoner until she left, and he had no place staring at her as he'd stared, or noticing the way her long lashes turned coppery against the afternoon light. He could see why Ren was so obviously consumed by her, though.

"Where will you go?" He asks, though in his mind he's sure that she'll just return to the Resistance. She'll slip away from him and end up on the other side of the war, where he can no longer reach her.

As if in confirmation, she turns and leaves him looking at her back as she fusses with her hair buns, letting the hair cascade down her shoulders in wavy tumbles. Hux rises slowly, taking that as his cue to leave and prepare himself for the first round of celebrations.

* * *

They enter the giant ballroom together, stopping at the grand doors as they are announced, one by one, Rey on Kylo Ren's arm. Tomorrow it would be Hux's turn to escort her.

" _General Brendol Hux, Commander of the First Order,_ " the woman calls his name while he stands rigidly on Rey's other side. Her eyes turn slightly to look at him in the creamy pale light of the chandeliers high above their heads, clearly surprised, and he quickly realizes she had never heard his birth name. He offers her a tight lipped smile.

" _Lord Kylo Ren, First Knight of Ren, Commander of the First Order_." The whole room hushes as Ren's title is called out.

Even here he inspires fear, but mostly, every eye turns to look at him. He's wearing his fineries today, beautiful robes of black and gold that fall to his knees, a black cloak with two small gold First Order seals clasped at each shoulder, crown of glossy hair framing his youthful face. This was a very, very rare occasion for anyone in the Galaxy, seeing the real eyes of the monster. Except he's anything but a monster. He's tall and beautiful, even if Hux hates to admit it, broad shouldered and imposing. More than one man or woman does a double take. Then their eyes stop across the scar Rey had marked him as her own with and eyes fall. It only served to remind those around him that youth meant nothing when you were so lethal. To imagine such a face and connect it with the gory things the man had done, it could only come as a shock. Rey had helped him by marring him.

 _"Lady Rey Ren, Apprentice to the First Knight of Ren,_ " comes the last announcement.

Rey stiffens imperceptibly. It had been his idea to introduce her as Ren's apprentice, simply because he refused to allow her to be the only one without a title. That, and it announced that he would be accompanied by two strong force users, and that reminder could never go amiss. Should anyone slighted by her negotiations try to act on their disgruntlement, they'd have to think twice in the face of this new revelation.

He steps an inch closer to her, letting his great coat brush against her bare arms. He feels her shiver. Her dress left a little too much skin bare to the eyes. He shifts in just a little closer.

Then they're stepping past the gates and are swallowed up by the massive amounts of bodies crowding the space. Hux immediately takes to adjusting the cuffs on his already perfectly arranged tuxedo jacket. He surveys the crowd, noting with interest the faces of Resistance emissaries, and nearly curses himself. They would not know who Rey was, not really, but they certainly knew who Ren was, and word of this would carry to Organa. Hux's lips set in a tense line, reminding himself that once she leaves she is no longer their problem. Not unless she returned, and Hux prayed to a Maker he did not believe in that she would return.

Those emissaries shoot him dangerous glares but he lets them slide over him. Kuat is a neutral planet. No fights would be fought here.

They all wait around for the next twenty minutes for the entrance of House Kuat, the ruling house, and its matriarch. Once all visitors have been announced it takes only a moment for the matriarch of House Kuat to descend into the room down a large set of stairs.

She's a tall amazonian woman who holds herself with all the regal air of someone who knows she holds power. Hux knows the type. He's one of them.

Her gown of gold glitters as she's announced to the sound of trumpets, a mile long list of titles too long even for Hux to remember fully, and the crowds hush before thunderous clapping breaks and the ballroom is engulfed in the thunder of hundreds of hands meeting enthusiastically. When the woman's welcoming speech is done and over with, Hux leans into Kylo, gripping his elbow and forcing the much taller man to lean down. His ear grazes the man's earlobe unintentionally and he feels Ren stiffen, but doesn't pull back.

"I must work," Hux states in a murmur, leaving Ren to guide Rey around the ballroom.

He waits with the rest as visitors make their way forward to give their greetings to the leader of Kuat, though he also notices the many who fall away from the places they waited, giving him room to cut all the way up the expectant crowd until he's standing a footstep lower than the woman. He does as is respectful of any person coming in contact with a queen, though the Kuati would never call it that, and bows at the waist as he grips her large hand in his and lightly kisses her knuckles, turning on the charm. The woman offers him a smile.

"General Hux," she greets once he rises, and allows him to step up until he's standing next to her. Everyone eyes them closely. Hux ignores the crowd.

"Your Majesty," he replies respectfully, "congratulations on another ruling millennia. You and your families must be proud."

She shoots him a calculating glance, taking in his sharp black tuxedo, crisp white collar, white bow-tie, and as always, his impeccable great coat hanging from his shoulders as befitting of a General, rank bars and First Order insignia glinting in the chandelier light. He'd dressed to make a point tonight. The woman gives a tiny smile.

"I hear you gave my negotiators a bit of a run for their credits this afternoon. Or…rather…a girl of yours did," Her Majesty's eyes rove over the crowd until they land on Ren, hard to miss as he towers above most of the crowd, looking like a king himself, as though he should be the one standing at the large stairs. Then her eyes narrow when they land on the slender girl on Ren's arm, dressed in long flowing cream fabric the shades of the desert.

She had refused Hux's offer to have it made in black, allowing him instead to adorn it with small glinting onyx stones, the train of her dress dragging as Kylo leads her away from a couple.

"She's a beautiful thing," the Matriarch of Kuat murmurs appreciatively, and Hux finds himself unable to disagree. "And smart, considering the whipping she gave Lady Temir, according to Tiagha." She snorts, so very unladylike, before turning her eyes on Hux once more.

"Where _did_ you find her, Hux?" She asks curiously.

"Unimportant, Your Majesty," he responds as casually as he can muster, "Though I do admit she did her job well. I hope we have not brought any inconvenience upon you with this. Business is business, after all, and we're in dire need for those ships."

The Matriarch smiles, a predatory glint to her eye, "Not at all, General. Temir needed the lesson. She's too young, too eager, and this will be something she'll never forget. After all, business is business. As long as it remains mutually beneficial, I have no reason to complain."

She had been referring to the black market dealing. Good thing he'd asked Rey about it. He so hated being unprepared.

"That said, General, if she ever does stop working for you, perhaps you could convince her to give us a visit. We could use someone as skilled as she is."

Hux allows himself a smile, thinking of his clever little wild thing. She'd pulled the thing off so smoothly he had been left speechless when Tiagha had cornered him after the fact. Hux was _never_ speechless.

"I would have to be a dimwit to let her slip away, Your Majesty, but I'll certainly pass along your praise."

The Matriarch turns to him and gives him a long considering look. Hux tries his hardest not to set his jaw. What was she seeing? He hated when someone thought they could read him so easily.

Then she smiles a knowing smile and whispers.

"Yes, you certainly would have to be. Enjoy the celebrations, General."

Dismissed, he gives another semi-low bow and steps off the stairs, letting others rise to take his place. By the time he's managed to make it to the other side of the ballroom all greetings have taken place and the music is starting.

He spots Ren and his charge and is about to approach them when a new melody starts and Kylo's guiding her towards the dance floor. The guests allow them a wide berth, in turn allowing Hux a clear view. He takes a flute of champagne from a proffered tray and leans against one of the large marble pillars, settling himself in to watch. His mind thinks of her attention flying to any beating of fingers, jealousy spiking for just a second at the knowledge that he won't be up close to see what first reaction listening to music brings out of her. Then Ren's snaking his arm around Rey's slender waist, thumb gently caressing the trail of exposed tanned skin near her spine as he pulls her closer, and Hux stops breathing.

Suddenly watching isn't so bad.

* * *

Rey holds her breath as Kylo pulls her into him, his body dwarfing hers immediately as one hand sneaks around her waist, thumb lightly caressing her back. The other hand is picking up her hand and holding it securely.

"Rey, look at me," he murmurs. "It'll be fine."

She frowns, but allows him to guide her, to teach her. She places her other hand on his shoulder and suddenly they're in a position to dance. His hand gently caresses her digits, feeling through the bond as he tries to ease her into this. She's never danced before. Having to do so in front of this many people, many of whom were staring at them rather intently, set her on edge. There isn't much time to think on it though as a long note comes from a violin somewhere that takes her breath away.

"Just let me guide," he says, "Relax your body, follow my feet, and try to keep your eyes on me. When I move forward, you move backward…alright?" His thumb draws another reassuring circle into her back, pressing close to her spine until she shivers.

She nods. She's seriously starting to dislike this idea of dancing.

He chuckles, obviously having snatched that thought from the surface of her mind. She gives him a wary glance and shakes her head. This whole thing's ridiculous. She should have just packed her bags and left before allowing herself to be put in a dress and made to dance.

"You'll be fine," he murmurs as he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling the shell of her ear, "I am a very well practiced dancer. Just let me guide."

Some of the anxious edge seeps away from her chest, his words calming her like nothing else could. This is all unfamiliar, but the man under her fingers is real, a weighty presence she's come to know well. She stares at him with parted lips as he slowly moves forward, forcing her back. The motion brings her back to his words.

" _You_ know how to dance?" She asks, bewildered, letting him sway her to the left as she allows her body to go soft in his embrace, pulling her along, "Wouldn't you First Order people, with your no nonsense mentality and stickler personalities, not be allowed to dance?"

Kylo chuckles, "I am not _people_ , Rey. I'm a Knight of Ren. Technically, I stand apart from the Order, even if I do hold a command within the organization."

Rey bites her lip, "Wait, so you don't answer to General Hux? Not really?"

He smirks, guiding her forward as he steps back, and soon enough she notices that they're trailing a square, slowly turning a half moon every time until it becomes a delicate glide. When she looks down she nearly stumbles and Rey snatches her eyes back up to his. He was right, it was easier to keep her gaze on him.

"No, I do not answer to the General, I answer to the Supreme Leader. I'm his apprentice."

This is the first time she's heard of this. There's so much she doesn't know. She had assumed this whole time that Kylo Ren and General Hux were the leading forces of the First Order. She hadn't known there was somebody else above them, and it makes her curious. That curiosity drives her forward.

"Who is he? What's he like?"

Kylo purses his lips with a frown, his hand stiffening on her spine and the slow, soft circles pressed into her back stop. He obviously is trying to shut that line of conversation down, but she's curious.

"So he's technically your… _boss_?" She asks, eyes a little wider than necessary.

He tenses under her fingers, just slightly, though he continues to guide her flawlessly. They turn and turn, forgetting the people around them, unaware of a pair of icy blue eyes following their every move from the distance.

"In a sense," he muses, but that's as far as he's willing to reveal to her. She doesn't dare probe into his mind. Instead, sensing how this is going, she changes tactics once more.

"And your boss lets you dance?"

Kylo looks at her then and there's so much amusement coming through the bond that she is relieved to know she made the right choice. She would be leaving soon. Leaving him behind, him and General Hux, and forgetting about all this. He had not been a horrible person despite his horrible choices, though he certainly had enough edges for Rey to cut herself on, and she figured it was time to simply enjoy what little time was left.

He grins, "No, _technically_ my… _boss_ doesn't let me dance," he replies, "It was my mother who taught me. Before she was a general, she was a senator. Before even that, Leia Organa Solo was a princess. There were many a gala to be attended as a child, so I learned to dance from her."

His eyes take on a little glaze as he whispers this, pain crossing his eyes when the name of Solo slips out of his mouth, when he mentions his mother. Rey itches to reach out and touch his face. He looks so small, so fragile, that Rey throws all caution to the wind. She cups his cheek gently, and it brings his attention back to her in a flash. Good.

"Your mother was a princess?" She asks curiously. She sends an image of the Leia she had met to him, and he looks so heartbreakingly sad, but his eyes soften. He nods. Rey now knows why the woman could hold herself so tall, command such presence, despite being so small herself. "So that means that technically…"

Kylo smirks at the words left unsaid as he leans in, his breath teasing the lobe of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine that he's quick to massage away with the pad of his thumb.

" _Technically_ , I'm a prince."

She smiles then, because this is the smug Kylo Ren she's used to. She lets him guide her across the floor and her eyes lower, half-lidded as she takes in the music. She had never heard something so _beautiful_ in her life. Rey sways to it, the notes carrying her in the air, and Kylo takes those moments to watch her and burn that expression of happiness into his mind. One more night after this, and that would be all they had. All he'd have left of her. He reassures himself that this is for the best. Still, he opens the bond, daring to hope against all hope that she'd do the same. Rey smiles when she feels him open up and pulls the veil from her own side slowly. This time there are no angry emotions being traded. They dance in the silence of their own Force bond for a long time, letting the music wash over them gently, one of the few last notes to the song that was their story. Rey knew she would not see them again.

Then there's a tap at Kylo's shoulder and he's suddenly stepping away from her as General Hux cuts in.

* * *

"May I?" He asks, more for Rey's sake than Kylo's, and the tall man gives him a long look before he nods. A forward lady immediately walks up to the retreating man and asks for a dance, leaving both Hux and Rey to stare after them.

"That was quick," Rey mumbles, and the small tinge of jealousy doesn't escape Hux's ears.

"You have to share him eventually, Rey," he teases, and is rewarded for his effort with a fiery glare. He smiles down at her instead, repeating his question.

"May I?"

Rey looks at his hand and then nods, gently letting her fingers fall into his own as he brings her closer by the waist, much like Ren had done. He doesn't miss the way her cheeks glow pinkish in the warm haze of the evening when she looks at his hand, how she wets her lips carefully, quickly, when her fingers land on his. Her body is inches away from him and Hux has to force himself to keep his eyes on her face, realizing a second too late that the low cut of her dress leaves a rather large expanse of her sternum bare to his gaze, sending a soft hum of heat down to his stomach. He swallows.

"Did you know he was a prince?" She asks as they sway, disrupting his train of thought.

Hux manages to catch her eye before she levels another gaze at Ren, dancing slowly with a beautiful Kuati woman only so many feet away. The man is a vision. He could see why the tall woman dressed in ruby red would ask him to dance despite the reputation that preceded him.

"I did," he replies, "though the only time he even comes close to acting like royalty is when he's being a royal pain in my ass."

Rey laughs, the light bell-like sound bringing his eyes back to her. She had a beautiful laugh.

"So you _can_ be funny," she muses out loud, and perhaps it's the combination of champagne and the heady heat of so many bodies that prompts Hux to pull her in just a little closer.

"I can be many things, Rey of Jakku," he speaks with half lowered lids. She's gazing at him intently and all thoughts of Kylo are forgotten when she's looking at him that way, and it disturbs him to realize so quickly that he likes it.

Maybe the heat of everyone surrounding them, pressed much closer to them than they ever did to Kylo, is reaching her as well. He feels her hand sneak from where it rests over his greatcoat to crawl up under it.

She sighs as the warmth nestled there envelops her hand and his pupils expand for a moment, feeling her that much closer to him. His own thumb rubs absentminded circles on her spine, just below where Kylo had but a moment ago, and they dance peacefully in that single moment, no longer a general and a scavenger, a First Order Commander and a rebel. Just a man and a woman, and a third awareness dancing a few feet away, feet moving with a beautiful Kuati woman but mind gliding along elsewhere, enjoying the moment through Rey's mind.

Hux allows himself to think back on their two months together, realizing how soon he'll have to hand over the reins to Rey again. Funny, that, how he'd suddenly found himself giving over control to the unlikeliest of people. A scavenger girl on the other side of the war. Perhaps the universe wasn't so stoic in the machinations of humans, after all. Perhaps it liked to play tricks on him.

He suddenly feels something being pressed into his mind. Rey, acting as a mediator in all things, plants Kylo in Hux's awareness as if he were in her own. His eyes widen. Was this what it felt like to have not one but two people inside your mind at all times? He just barely stops himself from faltering. He doesn't think that's how the Force was _supposed_ to be used, though he has to admit he knows little of what it could accomplish. He had only ever seen it used for war. From his vantage point, it had never been a gentle thing, a kind thing. Or perhaps it has to do with its wielder, he thinks as he looks down at Rey, whether it could be kind and gentle? The girl is full of surprises. The music and the heat must be playing tricks on them all. They sway for a few moments longer before the spell is broken.

The music stops and Rey's hand is falling from under his great coat, and he lets go of her waist. They take a few steps further away and Hux immediately misses the warmth of her skin. He gives himself a mental shake and bows to her, a formality after a waltz, before he excuses himself and steps away. He has to get a grip on himself already.

Then Rey is being swept away, dance after dance, by a throng of men who have realized that the beautiful girl everyone is whispering about has finally danced with her companions and is now free to be swept off her feet. Hux and Kylo both keep very, very close eyes on her, but within so many dances she's gone from stressed out about the prospect of being separated, to looking like she's positively enjoying herself. Hux assumes she isn't used to being the center of such pointed affections and attention from anyone, yet she deals with it with grace, even if every once in a while her cheeks turn deep red. She glows and Hux immediately hates the men, and women, who manage to bring that out of her. A look at Kylo Ren twenty steps away tells him the man is thinking the same thing.

It isn't that he's feeling territorial. No, he knows she does not belong to him or Ren. She'd be leaving them behind in less than twenty four hours, in fact. But the woman had spent nearly two months around him and not once had he seen what he's seeing now across her features, people of all ranks and walks of life managing to bring forth from her in minutes what he hadn't achieved in two moon cycles. It feels a little like an insult to his ego.

He lets the thought go, however, and decides to return his attention to those who approach him. Sometimes they are First Order sympathizers, sometimes he can tell they're very obvious Resistance lovers - all of whom he deflects with a lot of cordiality and a few placed words before walking away - and the next thing he knows they are well into the night and Rey is nowhere to be seen.

He panics for a second, his mind going to the worst possible scenario, before he sees Kylo's eyes following a lone figure walking away from the ballroom and into one of the secluded balconies facing the mountain range. He shoots a look at Kylo, who seems to sense him from across the room and tilts his head in her direction. A question then. He glares, and the men hold a conversation this way for a few heartbeats as Kylo looks down at one of Her Majesty's daughters, hinting that he is obviously preoccupied at the moment with someone he couldn't just blow off. Not here.

Excuses , he projects. It had become far too easy for him to shove his thoughts at Kylo and Rey, and he'd be worried about it if not for the fact that his mind is already on a young brunette. Kylo's lips twitch slightly as Hux feels the brush of a mind against his, but he doesn't look back, leaving Hux to make his way towards the same balcony.

He always found himself looking at her from doorways. He thinks back to the many times he'd stood back and simply watched her, from the doorway of his rooms, of the bathroom, of her training space with Kylo aboard both the finalizer or the corvette they travelled in. It occurred to him then that he had spent two months looking after a girl, looking at her from doorways, and how funny was it that on this night he would do it again. He can't help but stare at Rey, outlined in the glow of the silver ring of the shipyards around the planet that acted as a moon-like source of light, as he finally reaches the threshold. The wind blows on the soft curls she'd arranged her hair in, with a little help from Ren, and her arms wrap around her waist as she gazes at the snow capped mountains in the distance.

The chill cools the packed ballroom inside but out here she'd catch the death of her in that flimsy dress.

He removes his greatcoat from his shoulders and advances towards her quietly, then slowly sets the thick wool over her strong but slender frame, letting his hands linger for a second. Rey sighs and he smirks. She was probably freezing.

"It's beautiful," she tilts her chin towards the view, "I've never seen mountains."

Hux walks around her and comes to stand to her left, eyes on the same mountains. He'd never noticed them. He'd made plenty of trips planetside to Kuat but had been too busy to really look. He has to admit they are certainly an impressive view, giant fingers reaching up to the skies. He'd remember them now.

"I hope you've enjoyed your night," he offers, because what can he say that would top what she must feel at finally seeing such a sight?

"Certainly a lovely note to end on," she supplies and he turns to look at her from the corner of his eye.

"There's still tomorrow," he reminds her, tone a little harder than he'd meant to. Was she trying to leave tonight? He tries and fails to stop the sudden drop of his stomach at the thought.

Rey nods but says nothing. She'd stay around for tomorrow.

They stand in silence for a long time, the only sound that of the music playing behind them. Every once in a while he catches her swaying in place, dancing by herself, and he bites his lip, knowing those quiet moments are not for him to witness or inject himself into. Then the music stops and she looks at him in the seconds it takes for another round of melody to start.

"You never answered me, General," she prompts, and his brows come forth a degree in a small frown.

"About what?"

"Why have you been so gentle with me, when you didn't have to be?"

Hux looks at her for a long moment, eyes dancing on the freckles on her nose.

This place and that dance were messing with his mind, but he isn't ready to inspect a part of him that knew the answer to her question. He couldn't face that part of him, not yet. Not ever. She'd be leaving soon.

"Where will you go?" He counters softly.

Rey smiles a sad smile before turning her eyes back towards the mountains.

A small gift for a small gift, and neither one of them is willing to give it.

"Did I do well today?" She asks suddenly after a long stretch of silence and Hux does turn to look at her then, his body moving of its own volition.

The way she's staring at him, as though he could give her the universe with one word, dislodges his lungs from where they usually rest and resettles them up in his throat. He's not used to this feeling. To not being able to breathe. He steps way too far into her personal space before slowly reaching down to grab the hand that not so long ago had rested so comfortably on his shoulder.

Rey's body seems to suspend in time, quiet and unmoving, waiting for his next move. Her nostrils flare slightly as Hux turns her palm up, inspects her fingers, turns her palm down, inspects her knuckles. His thumb brushes lightly over them. They're rough, no doubt from years of scrubbing at parts and yanking on metal, beating against bellies of ships to find her next meal. It reminds him of how tough she is, and he smiles. Then he's wrapping his fingers around hers and curling them inward. Her eyes widen the closer those knuckles come to his face, and his smile only grows wider.

He may not have prompted unguarded laughter out of her like those men this night had, but he knew he could do _this_. Catching the scavenger by surprise was a feat of its own, and one few people could achieve.

He lowers his mouth to her and grazes her knuckles, letting his lips part ever so slightly as he plants a very soft, very tender kiss. And he holds it there, cherishing the feeling of her skin against his, giving her the only reward he could give her, if he couldn't hand her her freedom himself.

When he speaks his voice vibrates against them and Rey shivers.

"My dear Rey…You were extraordinary."

* * *

Kylo watches from a distance as his companions stand apart from the crowds on a balcony overlooking the mountain range. They had stood there, unmoving, for the better part of twenty minutes. He'd witnessed as Hux had placed his coat on Rey's shoulders and felt a particular thrill at seeing his general's bars on her frame, at seeing her swathed in black as he'd so often imagined her. He'd watched as she swayed slightly, a small imitation of their dances earlier, and felt a pang at wanting to wrap her in his arms again and sway her to music only the two of them could hear. He'd watched as Hux turned his head to look at her with something close to admiration, though perhaps from this far away Kylo's eyes were playing tricks on him.

He watches now as he turns and the next thing he knows Hux is kissing Rey's hand.

He should feel jealous. He should be raging that it is the General standing in her proximity rather than him, but jealousy had left him a long time ago, he realizes with sudden clarity. Somewhere between leaving the Finalizer and landing on Kuat, he had stopped guarding jealously and allowed for a third entity to enter that space with him. He should have felt something other than odd comfort when Rey had pressed his awareness up to Hux's in a way he didn't know could even be accomplished via the Force, he should have felt something other than near want when he felt the ghost of a strong thumb circling his spine as Hux circled Rey's. He should have wanted to rage when Hux kissed her knuckles, yet all he felt was heat pooling in his insides, a lump in his throat bobbing as he feels a ghost over his knuckles.

He is starting to wonder if this place is messing with him when another woman approaches him. He closes himself off from the bond, allowing them their privacy, and focuses on the woman.

Lady Tiagha.

He remembers her from negotiations, had watched her sit there glaring daggers at everyone.

"My Lord," she greets, allowing him to speak.

"My Lady," he replies, deep voice cool and unaffected. His eyes train on her for a little longer than necessary. The woman simply smiles before her eyes turn to where Rey and General Hux stand.

"She's not one of yours, is she?" She asks. Kylo suppresses his hackles from rising.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Lady Tiagha. She's my apprentice, if that is what you're not so subtly inquiring about." He knows he should not threaten, but he is, after all, Kylo Ren. He would not allow this woman to push him around, even if this was her turf.

The woman simply extends a hand as a peace offering.

"Forgive me, but I can't help but be curious about the girl. She managed to snare us rather impressively this afternoon. Trust me, Lord Ren, that does not happen often. She's rather special."

Kylo's eyes remain impassive on the woman yet a small bolt of pride sparks up at her words. _Good_. Let them know that Rey, worthy of being called his apprentice, was also worthy of much more in her own right. He had not aided with those _negotiations_ \- though it had been more like Rey clubbing the Kuati over the head and beating them at their own game - and he took pride in knowing that she had been capable of pulling it off smoothly. He is not a tactician to the level Hux is, but he could appreciate the intricacies of Rey's power play, and she had excelled at it.

"She is," he agrees, warming up a small amount to the woman. "Forgive me, Lady Tiagha. Is there anything I could help you with or are you approaching me simply to talk about my apprentice?"

Tiagha gives him a long considering look then, eyes slanting as she studies his face; his eyes, his lips, the set of his brows, and particularly the long scar running from browbone to jaw, disappearing under his robes.

"I have it in good faith that one of your Knights is somewhere in this room. I also have it in good faith that there are a lot of resistance sympathizers who have noticed your entrance and the woman on your arm tonight, Lord Ren."

Kylo narrows his eyes. He had not even thought about the possibility. He'd been too busy wrapped up in Rey and Hux to even think about it. He nearly curses himself. The spell of the night had been broken with two sentences.

"Thank you, My Lady. But what prompted you to believe I needed to be warned?" He asks, voice as impassive as he can make it, which was a feat of its own, reminding himself that this is Kuat, and this woman is a member of one of its ruling families. He would not undo the work that Hux and Rey had so carefully crafted because of his temper, despite the curl of dread and anger already bubbling up.

The woman sends him a glare then, sharp and cutting. A reminder of what he'd already known; she isn't one to be trifled with.

"Kuat may be a neutral system, Lord Ren, but that doesn't mean every one of us is." Her words are delivered low for his ears only, and he has to lean down to catch them to begin with.

So, a First Order sympathizer.

"Thank you, My Lady," he offers, hoping the gratitude shows.

She bows and then leaves him standing there after he returns the gesture.

Kylo sets about looking for the Knight Tiagha mentioned, irritation mounting with every step at the thought of not having been approached already. It's much harder to spot one of his own when there are no helmets and black cloaks to look for in a ballroom crowded to the brim with party goers. His search doesn't last long, however. He throws his awareness out, looking for any recognizable life signature. He immediately finds Hux and Rey, tucking them safely away while he continues to look until he finds a red little glow that belongs to a tall woman the color of night itself. She turns as she spots him, dark eyes widening slightly at his approaching stride and immediately bows to him in deference. He should have known. The woman was one of the few _friends_ he had within his own group of knights — if he could call not being assassinated a friendship, though they were amiable enough — and she was a brilliant woman. Supreme Leader Snoke had picked well to send her. He would be proved right soon enough.

"Lady Yathe," he inclines his head in return.

"My Lord Kylo Ren," she replies, voice calm as always, "What an entrance."

Kylo narrows his eyes, temples throbbing, jaw clicking. "Surprising you say that. Considering I had not known of your presence all night, I would have assumed you missed it entirely."

"My apologies, First Knight," she supplies, stepping closer and lowering her voice, "I am— _was_ , now that you've found me—under specific orders to remain cloaked. I am sure you understand."

He nods but remains silent. If Yathe had really not wanted to be found, he wouldn't have found her.

"So the whispers are true, then…" Yathe offers, giving him a sidelong glance. "The girl is your apprentice?"

Kylo tenses. There are few people he trusts amongst his own Knights - any one of them would slice his throat open for a chance to take his place — but if he had to choose only one, Yathe would be it. He'd taken her under his wing when he was just twenty and she a young girl with hunger in her eyes, hunger to be something more. She was so very like him. Still, the thought that Snoke had sent her cloaked when the man surely knew he would be on Kuat settles like lead in his stomach.

"What _whispers_ , Yathe?" He asks, careful not to ball his fists, "She is being trained under the guidance of Supreme Leader Snoke, no more, no less."

Yathe lets out a soft hum that may have been agreement or may have been her blowing him off entirely, carefully turning her champagne flute between long dark fingers. Her vague response prompts him to press the next question, simply because she left the door open.

"Why are you really here, Yathe? Fancy balls are not your sort of party, if I remember correctly."

The woman shoots him a glance out of the corner of her eye before she brings up her glass to her lips, taking a long swig. When she lowers it after a long gulp of liquid courage, she narrows her eyes. Clearly she doesn't want to be here either.

"To keep an eye on you, Kylo. You and your…companions."

"Why would that be necessary?" He asks with barely restrained anger at the implications. Yathe, clearly unimpressed but familiar with his short temper, simply raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

"Why does Snoke do anything? You'd have to ask him."

They stand in silence and Kylo watches as her eyes follow his to where Hux and Rey are returning from the balcony. The woman's voice, so very light and soft in contrast to her usually intimidating appearance, floats to his ears.

"Is she as strong as they say she is, then?" She asks, clearly curious, but also gauging what rung on the power ladder Rey stands on. Kylo gives her a mirthless smile, all teeth and tug of lips that never reaches his eyes.

"I believe the scar on my face proves that." He's satisfied when Yathe flinches involuntarily. Yes, Rey was powerful - she couldn't control it, or even coax it fully from behind her block, not _yet_ \- but the power was there.

"Good to know. Remind me never to get on her bad side, then," Yathe sips her champagne once more and Kylo allows her to swallow before delivering the veiled warning.

"You would be wise not to attempt it."

Yathe, smart woman that she is, turns to look at him then gives a curt nod. To act against Rey would be to act against him.

 _If she ever comes back, that is. And if she doesn't, then she's out of my hair and I don't have to worry about it._

He still could not believe he had agreed to her release. He couldn't believe he'd convinced himself to let her go. He'd almost backtracked, that afternoon in her room, when she'd looked at him with exhaustion and he'd avoided looking at her for as long as humanly possible. He'd searched and grappled for any foothold, and found that he couldn't, not when keeping her against her will would cause nothing but pain for everyone involved.

No, letting her go was the right thing to do, even if it felt like tearing off a limb. Yathe pulls him back from that particularly painful train of thought.

"Believe it or not, Lord Ren, I do not envy you your title as First Knight. You get to be the one who's under surveillance tonight, while I get to fly under the radar. You're the one who has to answer to Snoke personally." She smiles, and it's not pitiful and not quite amused, "I just serve as messenger girl tonight. There will be challenges to your apprentice, you know this. That said, rest assured none will come from me. Not to you. Not to her."

Kylo looks at her then. _Really_ looks.

"There may be a time when I will need you to carry more than messages, Yathe," he says, speaking words that he knows are about as close to committing treason as he can mutter. After his private meeting with Hux, he had decided that he would find out if Snoke was truly looking to finish his training or if he was being strung along, and Yathe was the perfect fly on the wall. He only hoped the woman would agree.

She considers him for a long while, onyx eyes rimmed by the yellow tinged whites of her eyes roving over the long scar on his face. Then she smiles. It's a smile he hasn't seen since they had been anointed Knights. Yathe's loyalty had been hard fought for and earned. She may be dangerous, but she was _his_. This Kylo knew. Her smile, predatory and hungry, confirmed it.

"Anything I can do to be of assistance, Lord Ren," Yathe says with a bow that Kylo returns.

"Did you tip off Lady Thiaga?" He asks after a moment, giving her a wary glance.

Yathe smiles. Bright teeth that shine from her dark features like a light, predatory as always.

"Who? Me?"

* * *

The Kuati sure know how to celebrate. By the time the trio is slipping back into their rooms it's well into the early hours of the morning, the sky dark except for a soft hint of pink tinging the horizon with the oncoming sunset. They had nowhere to be, however, and so they'd spend the rest of their hours in their suite trying to catch a bit of rest before that fateful moment everyone was avoiding.

Rey had long left the men to their own devices after she'd kicked off her heeled shoes with a grunt and walked away to her room, slamming the door behind her and leaving the shoes where they fell. Hux picks them up carefully by the heel, setting them on the coffee table. Kylo's staring at them as if the shoes might hold the answers to the meaning of life.

"Will you be ready for this?" Hux asks, because everything he'd planned for hinges on Kylo's cooperation.

The man nods, but remains quiet. Hux watches him from the corner of his eye as he sets to removing his cuffs and loosening his bowtie. Kylo's flung his beautiful cloak along the back of a chair, standing in the middle of the room with his gold trimmed robes glinting under the light.

"Snoke sent one of my Knights to spy on us today," he says rather suddenly. Hux freezes.

"Which one?" He asks, turning robotically to face the man.

"Yathe Ren," Kylo answers, flinging himself down on the chair on top of his cloak. Hux would have to have someone press it for tomorrow again.

"Can she be trusted?" He asks, knowing how ridiculous the question sounds. In a perfect world they would not be exchanging words of sedition like this, but the air smelled of gears grinding slowly, of large things slowly shifting.

Kylo snorts, "She's the only Knight I would expect to not stab me in the back, if that's what you mean."

"You will need to send Lady Yathe on her way before Rey takes off," Hux mutters, pulling at his bowtie and undoing two buttons at his collar. He sighs at finally being able to breathe.

"I know."

They sit in silence for a while then, simply staring at Rey's shoes.

"This could backfire on us rather stupendously, General," Kylo finally speaks, voice low and detached. He's sitting with his arms flung over the sides of the chair, one leg crossed over the other. Like that, the man looks like he could conquer just about anything.

"Perhaps," Hux agrees, "But if we're being used only to be disposed of, I'd at least like to know. I like my skin where it is. On me."

Kylo pins him down with a look. Hux had not told him any of this prior to this moment. A question of if suddenly becomes certainty. There is no longer a line between Knight and General. They are two men who fear the exact same thing, and neither one of them will take it kneeling down.

Hux smiles, searching for the cigarette lighter in his pocket as he pulls out a smoke from his great coat.

"If it turns out that Snoke simply wants a new force user and his goals remain the same as ours, then we have nothing to worry about, correct? We're only mildly curious."

Kylo returns his smile then, though there's nothing gentle about it. He stares at Hux's hand for a moment before letting out a soft hum.

"Those things will kill you, you know that, right?"

"So can your lightsaber and your fancy Dark Powers kill you, Ren. We all die of something."

Kylo barks a laugh then and stands up, walking away and bidding his leave over his shoulder:

"General."

"Ren."

* * *

 **What do you guys think? please review! I miss talking to you guys and always love hearing from you.**


	17. Friends

**AHHH YOU GUYS I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS!**

Thank you 2die4u, capri, and Yoon for continuing to comment here.  
Capri - I am glad you liked the ball! It was one of my fave parts to write about this whole trip, haha. Here's some more ;)  
Yoon - HE DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO HIDE HIS CRUSH AT ALL AND YES AL LTHE SLOW BURN. Lmao ;o I am awfully bad at being sneaky, but I'm glad you can slowly start seeing their animosity shifting. Here's some more for you ;)

As always, thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

The second day of celebrations is just as exuberant and as loud as the previous night. Kuat were proud, proper people. Until it came to partying, apparently. The men were charming, the women willing, and the alcohol flowed endlessly.

They arrive that night with far less fanfare than the previous evening now that everyone knew that they were planet side. That doesn't keep Hux from tensing when, before being announced, he extends his arm to Rey only to have Kylo absentmindedly do the same. Hux looks at the other man, and Kylo simply stares at him impassively, neither one willing to be the first to give in. It had been unintended, but they would not be who they are if they had not spent a moment struggling against each other. Then Rey does what she's best at best: she surprises them both by snaking her arms into theirs until both men are escorting her inside, their names quickly announced. It must have been a sight, both men escorting her. Or perhaps she was escorting them? Hux doesn't know.

Kylo is the first to disentangle himself, giving Rey a stiff squeeze on her wrist and a smile to both of them before excusing himself with some noncommittal excuse about seeing to an old acquaintance, which Hux understood as Kylo-speak for seeking out his Knight of Ren, Lady Yathe. In the absence of the Knight, he set himself to entertain Rey. He had no one to see to, having paid his respects the night before, and there was an eager force sensitive staring at him at the mention of food. They had had few options to taste the delicacies of Kuat the previous night and his lips tug at the corners at her obvious delight over the heaping tables, nearly buckling under the weight of the immense amount of intricately arranged hors d'oeuvre displayed. Rey starts popping globes of little juicy red fruits into her mouth one after another, letting out sounds that make his ears turn a slight shade of pink, but he simply follows her down the length of the tables as she gorges on sweets and expensive cheeses. For every little groan of delight she lets out, he finds his appetite leaking away little by little only to be replaced by a different sort of hunger in the pit of his stomach. He forces himself to concentrate on _anything_ else.

"You might want to leave some space for dessert," he calls to her, hands clasped behind his back as he shakes his head.

Rey turns from a few steps ahead and raises her eyebrows at him, cheeks puffed out with some sort of jelly-like substance. So unladylike. Neatly placed cubes all displayed in rows, impaled by tiny toothpicks, stare at him from the table. Rey already has about six toothpicks in her hand. She'd picked them off one by one until her cheeks bulged.

Rey struggles to chew and swallow before carefully trying to clean her mouth with the back of her hand. He cringes. You could take the girl out of the desert…

Still, she manages to miss some and Hux's thumb instinctively reaches out. Her eyes trail him as he presses it to the corner of her mouth and very gently wipes away the little bit of yellow jelly hanging there. Hux nearly sucks the sticky substance off his thumb before he stops with a jerk, reaching instead for a napkin off the table.

"Dessert?" She asks, bringing him back to reality.

"A small send off gift. Consider it a token of my appreciation. I had someone prepare something for once we return to the room. I do hope you aren't too full for it? I would have tried for something else but I clearly remember Kylo's gift of clothes to you the last time." Slowly, Rey puts down the toothpicks on a tray and he doesn't miss the small creep of color that takes over her cheeks, so alluring in the light of the chandeliers. Yet she grins at the idea of dessert and Hux feels much like he had when he'd allowed her to contact her beloved Resistance to warn them; he tucks that smile away for the lonely, cold days ahead. Part of him tells him he needs to get off Kuat. Two days, a handful of dances and he's starting to go soft. Still, she avoids the food tables for the rest of the night and he allows himself to feel a small amount of satisfaction. She'd accept his gift; is even seemingly looking forward to it, in fact.

Hux snags two flutes of champagne, handing one to her. She eyes it warily.

"I don't know if that's a great idea, General," she murmurs, obviously remembering the last few instances she'd decided alcohol was a good idea.

"One flute, no more. Its alcohol content is very low."

He offers it partly because he would allow himself the same, and partly because it gave him something to focus on other than her standing rather too close. She accepts, and they stay comfortably in silence, admiring the ballroom without really seeing, looking at their drinks without really drinking. They avoid the dance floor, both their minds running back to their waltz the previous night, to the alcove, to warm lips brushing slender knuckles. Hux is thinking about how childish it is to be put out of his element by a tiny slender girl standing _just_ close enough for her arm to be brushing his. He's a grown man.

He's berating himself quietly for his lapse in good judgement when she speaks.

"Where is Ky—Where is Ren?" Rey asks rather suddenly, her eyes turning to look at him.

Hux opens his mouth to speak when a tall, dark and handsome gentleman slowly starts to approach. The man immediately reminds him of FN-2187 and Hux nearly sneers. The man takes in Hux's face and immediately does an about left, covering his tracks as he approaches another young lady.

"Look at that — You scared him away," Rey chides, voice tinged with amusement, "You won't make friends that way if you scare people before they approach, General."

She's teasing him. He knows she's teasing him. Still, Hux's brain can sometimes only handle so much stimulation, and she'd provided plenty over the last half hour without even knowing. It's so absurd to his mind that they're in a ballroom in their fineries, and the girl who had once been his prisoner is standing there _teasing_ him, looking so lovely while she was at it, implying things about him that she had no right to. He purses his lips and stares her down, words a little harsher than necessary.

"I do not need friends, girl."

Rey immediately tilts her chin up at him defiantly. He loves that expression.

"What am I, then? And call me _girl_ one more time and I will take you down right here if I must."

Oh, she is angry.

He arches an eyebrow a hair, letting her question go unanswered.

He likes it when she is angry. He has no doubt she'd try to strike him down, even in her dress, given the opportunity. Anyone else would have died for less than the threat she just made but he just lets it roll off his shoulders with a smirk on his lips.

"He wasn't coming here for me, Rey."

Rey's brows furrow slightly, then, as his words sink in, they start going up. The flush slowly begins to creep up her cheeks once more.

"Oh."

How could she be so clueless when she was so sharp-witted with everything else? Even he, a man who rarely took notice of anything but himself and work, can see what a vision she paints this night. Waves hanging free of her usual buns, the bodice of her dress a lacy thing that is far too enticing to the eye — He knows there's a slip-like fabric under it, but it's just the right color of her skin, giving the illusion of nothing underneath — The rest of her frame a cascade of soft, flowy black fabric. Hux had noticed Ren openly staring when she'd stepped out of her room, barely managing not to openly stare himself.

Before the whole thing can get too uncomfortable he lets out an audible, pained sigh, and snatches her champagne flute from her hand, ignoring the elicited complaint from her about not being done with that when he passes them off to a young serving boy. Hux turns to her and gives her a look of mild annoyance before gently taking her by the elbow and leading her towards the dance floor; he seems to only have two ways of pleasing her: food and dance. In lieu of food, he'd twirl her around until she forgets her irritation.

They slip into position more easily than the previous evening and Hux gets what he had been deprived of before - watching her face alight as the music starts. He would never tire of how easily she let herself be surprised, amused, bewitched by simple sounds. For that look alone he'd collect just about every beautiful sound in the galaxy and offer it to her. Soon they're gliding around the room silently to the orchestra, her silky skirts kissing his legs, his white cloak floating behind him. They keep their attention on each other, except where Hux is looking at her face, Rey's staring at his adam's apple, nibbling on her lip in consternation. He aches to reach out and stop her from doing that with his thumb, to guide her to look him in the eye instead.

"Are we not friends, Hux?" She finally asks, having mustered the courage out of somewhere, determined not to let the subject drop.

Her eyes never reach his. His, however, cling to her face as his adam's apple bobs. This is the first time she's ever used his name and it rolls off her lips a little too softly. It's not even his first name and he's already acting like a fool.

"Does it matter? You're leaving me in less than six hours," he murmurs, immediately cursing himself and wishing he could take it back when she looks as though she's been kicked in the gut.

So he makes to amend quickly.

"You've lasted almost two and a half months around me without dying or killing me outright," he offers, and this brings her eyes to his. Finally. "You've shared my living quarters, my meals, my refresher — even slept in my bed once — my cat seems to like you more than she likes me…"

Those beautiful green brown eyes of her glint in the chandelier light and he almost regrets having forced her to look up as he gulps on empty air. His eyes trail off above her head, thinking of all the other things she's done. She matches him wit for wit, she defies him at every turn, never backs down from his challenges; she gets under his skin and sets his temper on fire, managing it all without flinching or cowering. And somehow she does it all without knowing.

When his eyes return to her face, there's a small smile fighting to birth itself on her lips.

"Yes, I say that would qualify as…friends. Perhaps as close to being a friend as anyone's gotten, little scavenger."

In truth, with the exception of Phasma, he had little in the way of friends or acquaintances. Even then, Phasma had only stuck around because she was too much like him to be scared away.

She doesn't fight him on the moniker. She's too busy smiling a small, secret smile. He tightens his grip on her waist and tugs her just a little closer. They could be friends for the next six hours if it meant she wouldn't look at him as though he'd tried to kill her cat…or, rather, _his_ cat.

He needs to get off Kuat.

This place is making him go soft.

* * *

"He likes her," comes the crystalline voice from beside his shoulder and Kylo's eyes jerk to Yathe's face.

They'd stood in a darkened corner of the ballroom watching Hux and Rey take over the ballroom floor like a dream come to life, black dress and white cloak taking over in an incessant twirl, two halves to a whole.

He says nothing. He does not need to. With enough time Yathe would explain herself.

She does.

"The man doesn't allow anyone within ten feet of him. The few times I've seen him he's barking orders in a voice hard enough to match yours, Kylo, and he runs the First Order with an iron fist." The woman lists off all the things Kylo had already known about Hux. Those were the comfortable things. The things Kylo could depend on to receive from the man. She continues with uncomfortable ones.

"Yet he's dancing without a care in the world and turns to putty when she smiles. I can sense his desire rolling off him all the way from here."

His Knight is immensely amused at the whole display between the couple on the marble floor. He can feel it through the force. Kylo's gaze turn back to them and lingers for a little too long.

"Perhaps you're right," he murmurs. "Though that is hardly any of my business. Or yours. We're not here to discuss the General."

Yathe looks at him from the corner of her eye and her thick, dark brow arches.

"Could have fooled me," she quips, but as Kylo's mood instantly starts to darken she raises herself to her full height and gives him a bow of the head, a small olive branch.

"Forgive me, First Knight. How may I help you?"

Kylo's nostrils flare for a second longer before he schools himself back to apathy. He would worry about Rey and the General later. For now Kylo had bigger things to worry about.

"Are you reporting to the Supreme Leader tonight?" He asks, moving in closer to keep their conversation quiet. Yathe Ren nods.

"As soon as I'm done here, in fact." She tilts her head and her dark, curious eyes study him for a minute longer than necessary. Any other Knight would have been dealt serious consequences for overstepping, but this is Yathe. And he needs her at this moment. Unleashing on her is the worst way he could go about ensuring she'd cooperate.

"I need you to… _alter_ …your findings."

Her brows shoot up infinitesimal at this, "You want me to _lie?_ To the Supreme Leader? Do you want me dead that much?"

Kylo gives her a pseudo-smile. "You will not be lying, I promise. But it will go a long ways in confirming my suspicions."

"What are those?" She asks, too curious for her own good.

"Don't you worry yourself about that - better if you don't know. Snoke can't pluck from you what isn't there."

"Ok..." Her eyes narrow. "What's the message?"

"We bargained for two Star Destroyers and three thousand TIE fighters. The negotiations were successful. We had a grand time at the ball, and then Rey escaped."

Yathe's eyes fly to the couple spinning in the dance floor.

"Forgive me, Lord Ren, but either you've become really good at pulling an apparition out of the Force like a magic hat trick, or the girl is standing right there in your General's arms."

Kylo gnashes his teeth.

"He's not _my_ General, Lady Ren, and she _will_ attempt to escape. How she manages that is inconsequential."

"Why would I possibly stick my neck out that way, Kylo?" Yathe asks, "If he finds out I'm lying, he'll have my head."

"You're one of the best Knights I have at concealment," he admits, "I'm pretty sure you could hide your thoughts from the Maker himself if you so chose to. He will not find out. As to why… I believe our venerable Lord Supreme Leader Snoke has not been very…forthcoming… lately. I want to make sure he still has our best interests at heart."

Yathe's ears prick up. As always, she'd let the compliment wash over and away from her and concentrated on what was truly important.

"And if you're wrong?" She asks.

He looks at Hux and Rey once more before turning back to her.

"If it turns out I'm wrong, then we have nothing to worry about."

Yathe gives a full bow to him then, and for the sake of keeping up pretenses — they are, after all, just a lady and a gentleman at a ball — Kylo returns it with a bow of his own. Yathe seems ridiculously amused by that, so he sends her a mental warning.

 _Don't get used to it._

She flinches then gives him a much smaller nod, taking off to do his bidding. Kylo stands where he is. Nobody approaches him. A dark knight in a dark corner in the room, looking a little bit like he's brooding, is no invitation for any normal person to get closer. So he's allowed a perfect view of the General and his Apprentice — for he would always think of her that way now — dancing away the minutes in a peaceful bubble of a dream. He feels Rey's elation through the bond at listening to music, at dancing, something that'd always been such a rarity to her on Jakku; of being held and having to worry about nothing but letting the man holding her lead her about the floor. A small, precious, fragile bubble. He lets them have it and steps off towards one of the massive balconies. When he looks down he catches just a glimpse of Yathe's flowing cloak, already thrown over her fighting clothes as she once more assumes the role of Knight and disappears into the shadows.

* * *

When they finally make it to their rooms Rey's feet are hurting. She'd spent the night dancing away with the General and other men, even once or twice sharing a dance with Kylo Ren and the balls of her feet were sore. Her legs were sore. She wasn't used to this. Yet as the hours passed and the ball room emptied, it became obvious to all three that the clock was ticking closer to her departure. The dances stopped, the easy conversation became just a hair more tense, and soon enough they all gave up and decided it was time to return to the room earlier. Rey was already worrying about her trip, memories of beautiful gowns and music falling away into the past when the door beeps and a small trolley is being rolled in, taking her by surprise.

"Dessert," Hux announces.

Kylo is standing like a gloomy wall off to the large windows overseeing the mountains, practically ignoring them both.

She can't help herself. It's half her mental wiring from years of starving and scrounging for sustenance, and half her newly discovered sweet tooth. She walks over to the trolley, where the redheaded General waits for her. Hux gives her a tiny tug of the lips before he's lifting a tray's lid to reveal three crystal glasses of some sort of thick, milky substance with small pruney items inside, sprinkled with a dusting of rusty red spice. Rey raises her eyebrows.

He lifts up a glass and a spoon and hands it to her.

"Try it," he orders, and Rey hesitantly takes a spoonful and brings it to her lips.

It's sweet, thick and soft. There are traces of what seems to be some sort of grain but her tongue's mostly wrapped up in the heady sweetness with a hint of a deep spice. Her brows shoot up even further. She bites into one of the prune things. It's sweet and fleshy.

"What is it?"

Hux smiles.

"Grandmother's recipe. It's an old thing, passed down through the family for hundreds of years now, from back when people had to get creative with their main food staples. It's not much but…"

He's inspecting her face closely, waiting for her to say something; that she doesn't like it, perhaps. He's so far from the truth. It's nothing like the treats served at the Kuati ball. Those had been elegant, complex, tiny, and could never fill her no matter how many she'd taken. This was heavy, warm and sweet and went down thickly. She knew if she ate the whole thing it would fill her as a meal would.

"It's amazing!"

And he smiles. It's a boyish smile. He looks so much younger than his years when he gives her that smile, eyes crinkling up in a way she didn't know was even possible for his face. Maybe it's because she's leaving that Hux allows himself to behave this way around her now; dropping his guard a hint and letting her see something other than the hard-cut man of granite that is General Hux for just a second. She returns the smile before she picks up a second glass and pointedly sends Kylo a look. Hux seems to notice it and nods, leaving Rey to wander over to Ren's side quietly. She stands in front of him and she knows he's aware of her presence, but his eyes are trained out the window, so she clears her throat.

"Dessert?" She offers. His gaze lingers a moment longer before he slowly brings his gold flecked eyes to land on her hand.

Kylo shakes his head, "I'm fine."

Rey's eyes narrow.

"I'm leaving soon and the General was kind enough to do something nice for me and you will not ruin it. Eat."

His brows lift and he takes in her face at that moment.

"You're getting a little too big for your trousers," he snips, but his hand is slowly picking up the glass as he turns to stare at it. "Seems you've forgotten I'm your Master, not the other way around."

Rey scoffs.

"You're not my Master. I thought we agreed on this."

If he's annoyed at her for the rebuttal, he doesn't show it. Still, he certainly projects it. Kylo stares at the treat in his hand, his other hand hoisting the spoon in the air, pointedly avoiding looking at her. His lips tense, and Rey gets the distinct impression that he's trying not to speak. That he knows better than to open his mouth. He would not be Kylo Ren if he did as he _should_ , however.

"No, you agreed on it, Rey. By yourself," he murmurs, eyes still on his pudding. Rey's is now forgotten in her grasp. "I offered to give you everything, and you agreed you'd only take what you needed and run. Why are we pretending otherwise?"

Her lips purse. There's apathy coming through the bond from him, but laced through it there's a deep feeling of dejection, she can feel it as if it were her own, standing this close to him. A bubble of frustration starts building up. They're so entangled in their little skirmish that they've somehow forgotten the man who's now sitting himself on a chair to watch the spectacle.

"Why are _you_ pretending any of this was going to last?" Her voice comes, slowly rising in exasperation with every word, "We've been on opposite sides of this blasted war since you took me on Takodana!"

Kylo's eyes land on her then, obviously remembering the incident, nostrils flaring. She's not done yet. She's projecting all of her anger and in turn he's giving her all of his frustration through the bond. It's like a two-pronged argument going on, and Rey can't be bothered to keep her voice down.

"Just because you planted yourself in my brain and decided to take up residence, just because you taught me for a handful of weeks, does _not give you any right_ to _me_!"

"And what other alternatives do you have?" He grinds out through clenched teeth, "What, run back to your gaggle of thieves and murderers and then—what? Become a pilot? Sweat under Leia Organa's thumb until she sends you on a suicide mission? You said it yourself, Skywalker rejected you."

The temperature in the room is suddenly spiking.

"Oh that's rich, coming from you. Murderers? You, who killed your own father, have the absolute gall— Whatever they do will never compare to what you have done! What you did to me! Or have you forgotten how you dug into my thoughts without permission already? Whatever I decide to do will at least have been my choice! Something you clearly never gave me."

Kylo very pointed ignores her question. Ignores the reminder of Han, because he'll explode if he focuses on it. Ignores everything and unleashes instead, frustration through the bond reaching its maximum.

"Argh! you stubborn woman— I'm giving you one now! I've given you so many!"

His tone is pleading, exasperated, tired… she nearly bites her tongue.

"And what? You expected me to drop everything because the almighty Lord Ren suddenly decided to look at the _desert rat_? And don't deny you've thought of me as that this whole time. I had a _life_ before you! It wasn't the best of them, but it was going somewhere. I had found a place to _belong_ , I had found friends, I had found something to _believe in_! Then you come in and simply drop out of the kriffing sky and decide that's all for you to take. Forgive me if I say _no, thank you_ , Lord Ren."

He opens his mouth to speak but she's not done yet, because she's been bottling this in for _so long_.

"You go around, taking what you please, and doing as you please, thinking the rest of us are just around to grovel at your feet without caring for the needs and sakes of other people; You, you had _everything_! I've heard the stories from Chewie. You had parents who loved you, a mother who taught you to dance, a father who tried to save you, an uncle who thought the world of you. A comfortable home. _People who cared_ , Kylo. You had a life and you threw it all away for…for what? For skulking around at the feet of your _Master_ , killing people left and right without conscience? I could _never_ — would _never_ —allow myself to be an apprentice to a man who is so obviously devoid of any emotional range outside of your constant fury!"

Kylo tenses with every word she utters until he's holding the glass in an iron grip. Rey doesn't need the bond to feel that very same fury building. His hand is shaking and the other hand is fisted at his side and he's just about to take his glass and chuck it against the wall with a scream when—

A throat clears.

Rey and Kylo both turn to look at Hux, who has been watching them silently while slowly eating his own dessert. He arches an eyebrow at them both and Rey's face blooms with red splotches. She'd completely forgotten about him. She fully expects him to berate her now, the berating she knows she so rightfully deserves, but when Hux finally speaks he's addressing Ren instead.

"Please don't throw that. I would hate to have to pay for damages."

Rey watches as the men look at each other for a long time, having a silent conversation from which she's excluded. Kylo's eyes gleam darkly, darker than she's seen them before, Hux's remain calm and unflinching. And just like that Kylo gets a hold of himself. He very slowly, very cautiously sets down the glass of pudding and spoon on the window sill before storming off into his room in a billow of dark cloak and raven hair, leaving her standing there numbly.

Hux turns his eyes on her then, Rey nearly moving to follow and apologize, and gives her a very small headshake. Now is not the time. Hux gets himself up as if it pains him to move from his comfortable chair before following Ren, closing the door softly behind him.

Rey looks at her delicious dessert, now lukewarm in her hands. She's lost her appetite.

She sighs and walks into her room instead, ready to tear this ridiculous gown off of her and go. It's time to leave.

* * *

Hux watches as the two force sensitives in front of him slip into the roles they play best: each other's antagonizers. It's like watching a holovid drama in real life and he treats the situation as such, eating his pudding as he watches. Until Kylo looks about ready to get destructive, that is. He clears his throat before the rampage starts. The last thing he wants is to have to deal with an angry staff and fork over credits just because the big baby got upset. He says as much.

Kylo shows all restraint the man possibly possesses as he sets the crystal glass and spoon down, then he storms off.

"That woman is insufferable," Kylo growls as Hux follows him into his rooms. He shuts the door behind him and stands just a few steps ahead, arms crossed, listening to a pacing Kylo calling the girl a whole lot other of things: stubborn, hardheaded, infuriating. The ever infernal scavenger.

"She wouldn't have lasted this long if she wasn't," Hux speaks with a rather light tone, "You or I would have killed her long ago. You know she spoke truth. Most of it, anyway."

Kylo stops then and finally takes Hux in, his eyes darkening at the words. Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say.

"So what, I should just stand there and take it? Let her walk all over me before she takes her leave and leaves us behind like so much garbage, because she's done scavenging?" Kylo growls, but the heat is slowly starting to leak out.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, ignoring Kylo's line of query.

Kylo glares.

"You _are_ letting her go, aren't you?"

"Do I have any other choice?"

Hux shrugs, "You always have had a choice, Ren; The girl has never been afforded the same luxury. Something she clearly begrudges you, of course, and probably me as well. The only way she'll come back to us is if we also give her the choice to make that decision on her own."

Kylo skulks around in the small space, pacing the room with fists clenched.

"And what if I don't want her to come back?" He growls, a caged wolf.

"Don't you?" Hux asks, slightly confused for the first time. He nearly starts planning ahead for what to do should Kylo get in the way of his plans when the Knight shakes his head. What the man wanted or did not want would not be what decided his actions for him. This would be entirely up to Rey. Kylo's pacing intensifies and, when he speaks, Hux gets the feeling the words are not meant for him.

"I don't know what I want anymore," he mutters.

The man starts yanking at his fine clothes in anger. His gloves go flying, his shoes thump against the walls, and when Kylo gets to his cloak and starts yanking at the golden seals keeping the cloak clipped to his robes to try and remove it, Hux realizes he needs to intervene. The clasps are complicated and fragile, and Kylo would not be gentle in his fury, and that would be a shame. It's a beautiful cloak. He steps forward and swats Kylo's hands away.

"Stop. You'll ruin a perfectly beautiful cloak that way."

Kylo freezes and Hux sets to work, avoiding the man's eyes. The small little golden clasps have a tiny pin closure and Hux has to maneuver his long fingers to try and disengage the lock. It forces his face close so he can see what he's doing, close enough that he can feel Kylo's hot breath on his hair. The man jerks as if to move away.

"Stop it," Hux commands, yanking him back closer by the chain of the cloak, forcing him to stand where he had been. "You'll only make this worse."

He fidgets with the thing, near about to curse as well when finally his fingers hit the right spot and the seal disengages with a soft click. Hux looks up with a triumphant smirk, about to gloat, except the motion brings his face inches from Kylo's and his words freeze in his throat, the smile slipping off his face immediately.

He should step back. Much like with Rey, this man seems to be able to read him like an open book and he's far too close. He's about to make a hasty retreat when a hand grabs him by the elbow, forcing him to stay in place. His eyes travel down to Kylo's fingers wrapped around the fleshy crook of his arm, narrowing by the second.

"Am I really as bad as she says? Is that how everyone sees me? How you see me?" Kylo asks, voice low and scratchy, and Hux can't bring himself to irritation any longer, the possessive hand around his elbow nearly forgotten.

"Like I said," he clears his throat, "she wasn't lying."

Kylo gives him a long look, studying his face until Hux starts to feel uncomfortable. Kylo reaches up then and covers Hux's hand with his own. Hux's stomach clenches. It only lasts a second.

Kylo pries Hux's fingers away slowly, gently, until their hands hover in midair. Hux snatches his back as if burned. The man has not stopped staring at him but Hux's eyes are too busy trying to look anywhere else but at the dark, tall man so close in front of him, heart thundering uncomfortably.

"Excuse me, I have things to attend to," Hux clips out before turning on his heel and exiting the room, closing the door behind so he no longer has to stare at the man burning a hole in his back. Time to try and salvage what he can.

Once outside he takes a steadying breath, noting that the common area is empty. So, she had retreated to her room. Unlike with Kylo, Hux makes his way to her door slowly and rasps his knuckles on the door. Silence.

He knocks again.

 _Has she left already?_

"Come in, door's unlocked," comes the muffled sound from the other side. Hux eases the door open and steps through.

She's changed, dressed in a gunmetal grey tunic and a white undershirt she must have forced out of the tailors; Hux certainly doesn't remember ordering them. Her slacks are the standard black of First Order petty officers. She'd prepared.

"Leaving so soon?" He asks sardonically, leaning against the door frame, his usual position for watching the girl.

She shoots him a glare but says nothing, walking around the room collecting what few belongings were truly hers, the two gowns she'd looked so stunning in tossed on the bed in a heap like so many rags. Hux contains a sigh.

"Rey…" he speaks softly, bringing her attention to him as he walks forward, closing the space between them. He's slipping into his usual role now, he knows, slowly prying her hand from her satchel — another procured item he didn't know about — and enfolding it in his own. Her eyes travel to his and pin him there.

"Rey —" he repeats, "Do you really want to leave so badly?"

"Yes," she replies without hesitation. It almost makes him start panicking that his plan will fall apart, but then she's biting her lip. "He's insufferable."

He smiles.

"He had similar words for you," he admits, "Is that the only reason why you want to leave?"

If he could convince her to stay, to not have to let her go, it would make his plans much easier. It wasn't because part of him was already regretting the decision to let her go in the first place, missing the little smiles and breathy huffs of irritation.

She does hesitate then, before her eyes lower and she yanks her hand out.

"I've been a prisoner and Ren's pet project, nothing more. That wouldn't change if I stayed."

His lips thin, turning down at the corners.

"False, little one. You've proven to be useful here," he offers, trying to veer her thoughts towards the more…palatable parts of her stay. "You could be useful still. No longer a prisoner. You're immensely smart…" he narrows his eyes at her when her gaze finds him, smirking, "sometimes frustratingly so."

She grins at that, which is all the encouragement he needs.

"You could be one of us. We're not the resistance… I know, and you wouldn't have to believe in what we do, but you could be one of us. Have a proper home. A proper teacher. I could teach you, as well, if you'd let me."

By the time the next words are flowing out of his mouth Hux is no longer acting, not anymore. He hadn't been acting for minutes now, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself.

"We could be your friends— I admit, I'm not the most…" He sighs, frustrated with himself now that his words start to lack, something that had never happened before. Despite her having yanked her hand away, he grabs it again and brings it close to him, undeterred, trying to make her see,"I'm not the easiest man to get along with… but I could try. You could belong. You could do big things. Help make this galaxy better. You just have to trust me, Rey."

He feels so out of his depth, trying to speak from the heart when he can't remember the last time he had. Yet when he offers her the galaxy, when he offers her a chance to rule alongside him and make it all better, he's telling the truth. There's a moment when her face looks like she wants nothing more but to accept. Desire and need flash across her face for a single breath, and he dares to hope.

Then she narrows her eyes at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with angry, stuffy General Hux?"

He snorts.

"Kuat's turned me soft, I'm afraid," he quips with a smirk before letting his expression return to seriousness once more, "I am not lying, however. You have to believe that."

She studies him for so long he starts to feel like an ant under a magnifying glass and has to contain himself from shifting his weight. Only this woman and the man in the other room could ever manage to put him at odds with himself without so much as uttering a sound. Still, he straightens his back and squeezes her hand, refusing to let her go just yet. In his mind, if she decides to stay after his heartfelt plea, then that would be time gained for his cause.

But it's not to be. She slowly slides her hand out of his and looks at the floor.

"Thank you, General, but I think perhaps it's best if I go."

He _does_ let himself sigh tiredly then, reaching down and tilting her head up by the chin until she's looking at him once more. He hates it when she looks down.

"I tried at least," he confesses, offering her a tired smile, "in that case, allow me a moment."

He watches to make sure she won't bolt the second he steps out. Rey nods and he turns, walking quickly to his room and procuring two small items from his great coat before returning to her side. When he offers them to her, he knows he's basically handing her the keys to his kingdom and suppresses the itch to slap himself.

"There's a ship in hangar bay A42 with engines prepped and cleared for departure. This access chip will allow you to enter the hangar and board. I'm sure you'll be able to fly it just fine."

The small orange, card-sized chip is pressed into her hand. Then he hesitates for a moment. Hux knew full well he was about to make the biggest gamble of the night — no, of the last two, almost three damn months, and what he was giving her was barely the size of her palm.

"You're prepared," she comments, brows raised.

"When am I not?" He murmurs, palming the next item. "I am nothing if not a man of my word."

She looks at him questioning, eyes going back and forth between them. Hux takes a breath and places it in her hand along with the orange access card.

"This is a navigational tracker. It's been locked onto the Finalizer. Should you choose to return to me" — he nearly bites his tongue trying to get those words back, but it's too late to stop now — "you'll be able to find my ship's coordinates from anywhere in the galaxy."

Her eyes widen to saucers, unbelieving, shifting from the tracker to his face and back.

Hux hardly believes he's doing it either. He knows she could just as easily turn that pad over to the Resistance and doom his ship to attack. Instead he steels himself.

 _Bigger picture. Remember the bigger picture._

"Please don't make me regret the decision to trust you, Rey… if you don't want to return, then see to its safe disposal."

And that was it. She could just choose to leave, untangle herself from war, and that would be a good thing for her. It would also mean he'd never see her again. She wanted a choice, so he was giving it to her. He had nothing else to offer.

Rey nods, a tiny thing, so small he nearly misses it. Then she turns away from him without another word and he knows he's been clearly dismissed.

There will be no goodbyes here. Hux looks at her for a second, another, a third, then forces his feet to move as he turns and exits without looking back.

* * *

The hangar is pretty easy to find. The ship is a nondescript vessel that, as promised, is prepped for departure and stocked with a ridiculous amount of rations for her trip. Rey boards with enough ease once she uses the access key, leaving it in the slot for the hangar and closing the bay door behind her. She steels herself as she drops her satchel in the copilot's seat and drops into the pilot seat herself.

She takes a deep breath and hesitates for just a moment before turning on the ship and easing the ship out of the hangar. Nobody asks questions over the comm link when she ascends — the vessel had been cleared for departure — and soon enough she's exiting Kuat's orbit, flying a ship for the first time in months, her veins thrumming with excitement.

It peaks as she hits open space and she drives the ship into hyperspace.

Finally, finally she's free.

* * *

 **What did you think? PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Author's note: AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**


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